


Pings

by barfs



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Car Accidents, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Recovery, Skype, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, mentions of bokuto/akaashi, tsukishima talking to himself: the fanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-09 23:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3268115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barfs/pseuds/barfs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>[5/02/16, 3:50:17 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Please wake up.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>[5/02/16, 3:50:23 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I hate begging. You know I hate it.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>[5/02/16, 3:50:34 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I bet you’re snickering at that, wherever you are.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>[5/02/16, 3:50:53 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But, it keeps hurting and I don’t know why and it feels like shit and I know you could tell me why, but you’re not here and I would really appreciate it if you’d just wake up.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>[5/02/16, 3:51:02 AM] Tsukishima Kei: You’re laughing at that too, aren’t you.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>[5/02/16, 3:51:10 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Dying is probably up there in the list of top ten shitty things you’ve ever done, and you’ve done a lot of shitty things.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen to [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p_AXFShIDuE) for the Full Effect

_  
_

_[4/19/16, 8:34:09 PM] Tsukishima Kei: You were on the news today._  
_[4/19/16, 8:34:15 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Well, you were mentioned._  
_[4/19/16, 8:34:30 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I thought that I should let you know since you always said you wanted to be on television one day._

_[4/19/16, 8:37:03 PM] Tsukishima Kei: People cried. A lot. Which is pretty embarrassing._  
_[4/19/16, 8:37:09 PM] Tsukishima Kei: And they all talked you up so much. It’s funny that they really have no clue how lame you actually are._

_[4/19/16, 8:49:20 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Anyways…_  
_[4/19/16, 8:49:29 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I can’t talk long tonight._  
_[4/19/16, 8:49:33 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I’ll talk to you later._

__

* * *

“ _Tsukki_.” Kuroo exhales the name against the back of Tsukishima’s neck, and as always, Tsukishima grunts and reaches back to shove at Kuroo’s side in an attempt to get him to stop breathing down his neck. “Tsukki, wake up.”

“I’m sleeping.”  
“Bullshit.”  
“Fuck off.”

Tsukishima’s words were groggy and thick with sleep in sharp contrast to Kuroo’s. He’d probably been up for half an hour by now, and only just got bored of lying in bed and doing nothing. The sound of rain and their breathing had filled the gap of silence in conversation, and Tsukishima shuts his eyes again, putting his head down on Kuroo’s arm as a makeshift pillow—one that Kuroo was quick to yank out from underneath him.

“Let’s go for a run.”  
“It’s raining.”  
“And?”  
“I’m tired.”  
“And?”  
“It’s cold.”  
_"And?"_  
“Urgh. I’m not doing this with you.”

Kuroo was pouting, and Tsukishima didn’t need to turn around to know. Dating Kuroo was like taking care of a child, and while it was something he knew he was signing himself up for early on in their relationship, it never got any less annoying. Or endearing.

A nose presses to the back of Tsukishima’s head, followed by a pair of lips and only then does he cave and roll onto his other side to face Kuroo, who grinned from ear to ear now that he knew that he had every last ounce of Tsukishima’s attention.

“Well, good mornin’ princess.” Kuroo purrs, leaning in for a kiss that Tsukishima blocks with his hand. There was no way that he’d be kissing Kuroo before he brushes his teeth.

“Morning.” Trying to get Kuroo to stop calling him by nicknames and pet names was just a waste of time at this point in their relationship, and Tsukishima didn’t mind it nearly as much as he did before they began seeing one another. Hearing _‘Tsukki, Tsukki!’_ shouted from the end of a hallway usually meant Kuroo and Bokuto were about to come bounding down the corridor to tease and play.

“Did you sleep well?”  
“I would have slept better if you didn’t wake me up.”  
"I wanted you to pay attention to me, that’s all.”  
“Of course.”

Kuroo chuckles, taking Tsukishima’s hand in his own to press a kiss to the pads of each of his fingers, knuckles, and then his palm since Tsukishima wasn’t about to kiss him properly.

“I like waking up like this. You’re less pissy in the mornings.”  
“Thank you, Kuroo.”  
“And you’re cuter.”

Any compliments that Kuroo made were always responded to with a roll of Tsukishima’s eyes and a reddening of his cheeks. The little things like that were what made Kuroo fall for a lanky, angsty first-year to begin with, and now that he was older, he found it even more adorable. 

“What do you want to do today?” Kuroo props himself up on an elbow to look over his shoulder and out the window of Tsukishima’s bedroom. The rain was coming down hard and it didn’t look like it was going to let up any time soon. He had never been a fan of the rain, but he wasn’t a fan of staying inside and doing nothing, either. 

“Sleep. Stay in bed. Maybe we can watch some television later.”  
“Please get any more boring, I’m begging you.”  
“Well, do you have anything better in mind?”  
“Let’s go for a run.”

The fact that Kuroo would ask to go for a run not once, but _twice_ in this weather was appalling, and Tsukishima groans with a shake of his head.

“I already said no. Are you crazy?”  
“It’s just a little rain.”  
“No.”  
“Come on!” 

Kuroo flips over with his hands pressed to the bed at either side of Tsukishima’s head, and he looks down at him with that same smirk that Tsukishima wanted to slap and kiss all at the same time. Instead of doing either of those things, he sighs and rolls onto his back to look up at Kuroo.

“Let’s just go for a run in the rain.”  
“That’s the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said to me.”  
“I’ll give you a kiss in the rain if you’re good.”  
“I lied. _That_ is.”  
“I’ll brush my teeth first.”

This time Kuroo smiles. His smile was something Tsukishima appreciated far more than his Cheshire cat grin. It wasn’t just the curve of his lips that made Tsukishima weak at the knees, but his nose would scrunch up and there was always a dimple on his left cheek but not one on the right. He’d seen that smile and memorized it countless times, and he’d felt it pressed against his own lips. It never got old, and the thought alone makes Tsukishima think that maybe he was the cheesy one, not Kuroo.

“Fine. Only if you brush your teeth.”  
“I knew you’d come around.”  
“Shut up.”  
“I love you.”  
“ _I love you too._ ”

* * *

_[4/21/16, 2:58:09 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Do you remember when you’d tease me all the goddamn time about how I slept too much?_  
_[4/21/16, 2:58:14 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I can’t sleep at all right now. It’s the worst. I lie down and I close my eyes and I can’t fucking sleep no matter what I try._  
_[4/21/16, 2:58:20 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I don’t want to say that I wish you were here right now,_  
_[4/21/16, 2:58:23 AM] Tsukishima Kei: but I wish you were here._  
_[4/21/16, 2:58:30 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I wish you were here so I could tell you that you’re the one that’s sleeping too much now. Hypocrite._  
_[4/21/16, 2:58:38 AM] Tsukishima Kei: You’re not even reading these; I know you’re not._

_[4/21/16, 3:16:12 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I’m going to try to sleep again._  
_[4/21/16, 2:16:19 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I’ll see you soon._  
_[4/21/16, 2:16:21 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Night._

* * *

For a moment, Tsukishima waits for Skype to ping with a response. It doesn’t, and Tsukishima wonders what he’d actually been expecting. Kuroo was always notoriously slow to respond to messages, but Tsukishima knew that this time, no matter how much he wanted to deny it, there never would be another notification from Kuroo again. Coming to terms with that is just another thing to add to his itinerary for the next few days, weeks… years, probably. 

He stands up, walks over to the television, and turns off the news channel that was playing what may as well have been white noise for the past four hours. Sleep would make things feel better, and sleep would make his chest not feel like it was caving in on itself and like his head wasn’t being held underwater.

The quiet whirring of his laptop on his desk was all the company that Tsukishima needed—and the sliver of hope that by the off chance he manages to fall asleep, he’d be stirred awake by a ping and the same ‘Good morning,’ message that he’d woken up to almost every day for the past two years.

* * *

_[4/22/16, 5:19:22 PM] Tsukishima Kei: It was really nice seeing you today._  
_[4/22/16, 5:19:30 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Even though you didn’t talk much._  
_[4/22/16, 5:19:37 PM] Tsukishima Kei: You didn’t talk at all, actually._  
_[4/22/16, 5:19:44 PM] Tsukishima Kei: But I met your parents._  
_[4/22/16, 5:19:58 PM] Tsukishima Kei: It was my first time seeing them._  
_[4/22/16, 5:20:06 PM] Tsukishima Kei: You really do look like your dad._  
_[4/22/16, 5:20:12 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Especially today._  
_[4/22/16, 5:20:24 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I don’t know how they did it, but they managed to get your bedhead go down. It probably took a lot of hairspray._  
_[4/22/16, 5:20:32 PM] Tsukishima Kei: You looked like your dad, but you didn’t really look like you._  
_[4/22/16, 5:20:39 PM] Tsukishima Kei: That doesn’t even make sense. Sorry._  
_[4/22/16, 5:20:44 PM] Tsukishima Kei: They used a lot of makeup to cover up the bruises and what not._  
_[4/22/16, 5:20:48 PM] Tsukishima Kei: So don’t worry, you looked good. I swear._

_[4/22/16, 5:24:15 PM] Tsukishima Kei: My mom is calling me, so I should go._  
_[4/22/16, 5:24:22 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I’ll talk to you tomorrow, I promise._

* * *

Dinner for the past few days was about as enjoyable as pulling teeth. 

Tsukishima spent more time staring at his plate, at his lap, than he did talking about his day, and tonight wasn’t any different than the night before, or the night before that. 

Two nights ago he didn’t even bother to leave his room for a meal. Hunger was staunched with confusion, depression and frustration, and his parents said they understood. 

Except they didn’t understand, and Tsukishima knew that they wouldn’t for a long, long time. 

Unless one of them suddenly died in a freak accident, then they’d really understand.

Two nights ago, instead of sitting around the dinner table, he sat in front of the television with his laptop beside him, watching the same clip from the news over and over again while listening for his computer to ping.

* * *

_[5/02/16, 3:49:03 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I know I promised to message you the other day._  
 _[5/02/16, 3:49:19 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Other week would be more accurate._  
 _[5/02/16, 3:49:25 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But you can’t be upset with me._  
 _[5/02/16, 3:49:34 AM] Tsukishima Kei: You promised me that you’d get home safe._  
 _[5/02/16, 3:49:42 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I mean, you also called me “mom” said it with that stupid, shit-eating grin that you always have on your face._  
 _[5/02/16, 3:49:44 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Had on your face.*_  
 _[5/02/16, 3:49:50 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Aaaaand, you didn’t. Make it home, that is._  
 _[5/02/16, 3:49:53 AM] Tsukishima Kei: We’re even now._  
 _[5/02/16, 3:50:08 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Now that we’re even, I want to you to try and promise me something again._  
 _[5/02/16, 3:50:17 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Please wake up._  
 _[5/02/16, 3:50:23 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I hate begging. You know I hate it._  
 _[5/02/16, 3:50:34 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I bet you’re snickering at that, wherever you are._  
 _[5/02/16, 3:50:53 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But, it keeps hurting and I don’t know why and it feels like shit and I know you could tell me why, but you’re not here and I would really appreciate it if you’d just wake up._  
 _[5/02/16, 3:51:02 AM] Tsukishima Kei: You’re laughing at that too, aren’t you._  
 _[5/02/16, 3:51:10 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Dying is probably up there in the list of top ten shitty things you’ve ever done, and you’ve done a lot of shitty things._

_[5/02/16, 4:21:40 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I'm rambling._  
_[5/02/16, 4:21:47 AM] Tsukishima Kei: That wasn’t really a promise. Now that I think about it._  
_[5/02/16, 4:21:53 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Promise me that you’ll wake up._  
_[5/02/16, 4:21:55 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Soon._  
_[5/02/16, 4:21:59 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Wake up soon._

* * *

_“Tokyo College Student Killed By Hit-And-Run Driver_

_A college student from Tokyo has been identified as the victim of a hit-and-run accident in the northern Miyagi Prefecture._

_Kuroo Tetsurou, 19, was struck by a c—“_

The television goes black, and Tsukishima snaps his head around to see his brother standing over him with the remote in hand. 

“Kei, stop watching that.”

He didn’t need to watch the clip again (it was his thirteenth time today) to know exactly what the news anchor would say next. She would talk about how Kuroo was well liked, charming, intelligent and a talented volleyball player that everybody loved and would be dearly missed. She’d play clips of Kuroo’s classmates and teammates blubbering eulogies through snot and tears, and it’s embarrassing just as much as it’s pathetic.

Hearing that initial spiel always pissed Tsukishima off the most, though. The news anchor would talk and talk when she knew absolutely nothing about Kuroo.

Someone who really knew Kuroo would have said that Kuroo was a bit of a bastard. That he was smart, but not in the way that he’d pick up on text written in books or solve equations at the blink of an eye. He was smart in that he could catch the slightest change in expression; the tiniest twitch of someone’s eye or the upturn of someone’s lip and know how to play that emotion like a song to make people laugh, cry or fall in love. He wasn’t charming, he was persistent, and when he knew he wanted something or someone, he was absolutely relentless. That persistence was what convinced Tsukishima to reluctantly go on a date with him, and for that, Tsukishima would never forgive him.

At least the volleyball part was accurate.

“I was just about to turn it off.” He replies simply, sinking back into the living room couch as he stares at his own reflection in the television. The dark circles around his eyes made him look sickly, as did the way that what little body fat he had dwindled down to practically nothing.

“Maybe you should delete it from the DVR.”  
“I’m going to.”  
“When?”  
“Soon.”  
“Today?”  
“No.”

The news anchor would close the segment with testimonials from teachers who said that Kuroo was just the perfect student. They would exaggerate Kuroo’s academic career that was really mediocre at best into something along the lines of being a ‘Straight-A, honor roll student’ when Tsukishima spent a good portion of his days talking to Kuroo over the phone to walk him through math equations.

Akiteru sighs, and Tsukishima looks at the ground between his feet as if his brother had just walked in on him watching porn and not a reading of his boyfriend’s obituary over a local news network. To Tsukishima it was even more shameful that he’d brought his laptop along with him into the living room so that he could wait for a ping while he listened to a recount of Kuroo’s death.

“Do you want to go outside and toss a ball around some?”  
“No thanks.”  
“It would be good to get some fresh air.”

Fresh air had become a foreign concept to Tsukishima. He hadn’t left home or gone to school for weeks now. Yamaguchi began bringing his missed schoolwork to his house for him, but even then his mother would answer the door with a small smile and reassurance that ‘Kei is doing just fine.’

“Maybe tomorrow.”  
“Tomorrow, then. Promise?”

That last word out of Akiteru’s mouth makes Tsukishima want to vomit, and he quickly gets up and off of the couch before wordlessly power walking back to his room with his laptop in hand. 

Akiteru doesn’t go after his brother. Instead he sits down where Kei had been seated all morning. He turns the television back on to hear one more time about who had broken his baby brother’s heart.

* * *

_[5/05/16, 7:02:15 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Your mom came over yesterday._  
_[5/05/16, 7:02:17 AM] Tsukishima Kei: At eleven o’clock._  
_[5/05/16, 7:02:19 AM] Tsukishima Kei: At night._  
_[5/05/16, 7:02:24 AM] Tsukishima Kei: She was crying. I don’t think that she’s stopped crying since you left._  
_[5/05/16, 7:02:28 AM] Tsukishima Kei: It’s pretty annoying._  
_[5/05/16, 7:02:35 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But she sat me down and she told me that you were gone._  
_[5/05/16, 7:02:39 AM] Tsukishima Kei: As if I don’t know that already. I’m not an idiot._  
_[5/05/16, 7:02:43 AM] Tsukishima Kei: She asked me if I wanted to visit your grave, and I said no._  
_[5/05/16, 7:02:50 AM] Tsukishima Kei: She asked me if I was scared to, and I said no to that too._  
_[5/05/16, 7:02:53 AM] Tsukishima Kei: And I’m not._  
_[5/05/16, 7:03:02 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I just like to think that you’re going to keep your goddamn promise for once and wake up._  


_[5/05/16, 7:09:21 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Even if you don’t do it for me, at least do it for your mom._  
_[5/05/16, 7:09:26 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I don’t like answering the door for people in the middle of the night._  
_[5/05/16, 7:09:33 AM] Tsukishima Kei: It’s a pain in the ass._  


_[5/05/16, 7:39:29 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I have to go to school now. I haven’t gone in weeks._  
_[5/05/16, 7:39:34 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I’ll talk to you when I get home._  
_[5/05/16, 7:39:38 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I love you._

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this up super quick on a whim... i'll probably have to proofread it again but i think its. presentable
> 
> well thats the end of this fanfiction remember to kudos the fanfiction comment the fanfiction and bookmark if you wanna see fanfictions similar to this one
> 
> see ya


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen to [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8pxbQTsr9X4)

School was going to be agony. Tsukishima knew it the second that he walked out the door and stepped onto the sidewalk for the first time in weeks. The sun had no right to be shining that bright, the birds had no right to be singing, and the world had absolutely no right to be turning on it’s axis when Tsukishima’s entire universe may as well have been splattered across the asphalt with Kuroo’s body. But he walks anyways, and on his way to school, Tsukishima makes sure to avoid the corner where Kuroo was hit. It added an extra fifteen minutes to his walk, but going his usual route would have held him up for hours.

To Tsukishima, it was a miracle in itself that he even managed to haul his ass to school when he felt like he were walking knee deep in tar the entire way. Kuroo would have laughed at how slowly he walked. He would have laughed and scooped Tsukishima up in his arms and ran the rest of the way there while teasing and poking fun the entire time. If Kuroo had done that a month ago, Tsukishima would have griped and whined that he didn’t need to be carried.

No, if Kuroo had done that a month ago, Tsukishima would have held his face and kissed him over and over again until his lungs burned and Kuroo promised that he wasn’t going to leave him any time soon.

If Tsukishima had known a month ago that the simple act of walking to school would leave him out of breath and bleary-eyed, he would have never let Kuroo out of his sight again.

\--

At Karasuno, no one knew who Kuroo was other than the volleyball team. The rest of the student body doesn’t even bother to keep quiet as they spoke of a college student from Tokyo getting hit by a car no more than two blocks from the school. They were speculating stupid things, and as stupid as it was, each stupid speculation made Tsukishima sicker than any news article could have. 

_“He was probably drunk.”_

_“Do you think he did it on purpose?”_

_“I bet he was high.”_

_“People from Tokyo really are reckless, aren’t they?”_

Tsukishima never wanted to punch so many people in the face in his entire life.

\--

“Oh, Tsukishima.”

Coach Ukai’s voice echoes off of the walls as Tsukishima steps inside the gymnasium. He took his time getting ready for practice, but he was glad that he managed to do so. It was hard not to think of Kuroo puling his kneepads back off while he yanked them on for the first time in weeks. Kuroo wouldn’t be undressing him or teaching him volleyball ever again, so there was no sense in dwelling on it. 

Tsukishima nods in acknowledgement and clears his throat, not even getting one word out before the entire gym goes still. The sound of a stray volleyball someone failed to receive fades into nothing.

“Hey.” Tsukishima takes it upon himself to break the silence, only to shoot a glare at Hinata, who hadn’t picked his jaw up off of the ground since their coach said his name. 

“You’re back.” Kageyama calls from the other end of the gymnasium. The king was observant as ever, Tsukishima notes.

“I am.”

Another silence, and Tsukishima grits his teeth as he makes his way towards the volleyball court. Everyone was walking on eggshells around him, and it was starting to piss him off.

“Are you okay?” Tsukishima doesn’t bother to turn to the source of the voice. Some first-year he hadn't learned the name of. No one else would bother to ask.

“Yes.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yes.”  
“That's good.”

The tension in the gym was suffocating, and Tsukishima immediately regret coming to practice to begin with. But Kuroo would have been disappointed in him if he stopped showing up to practice, and quitting volleyball was what everyone expected him to do.

“May I join practice or—“  
“Of course.”  
“And we’re doing…”  
“Serves.”  
“Alright.”

Tsukishima walks to the edge of the court where a few of his teammates had lined up. Yamaguchi had been staring at him like he was the one that died and had just risen from the dead, and Tsukishima doesn’t bother to point it out. He could stare all he wanted. He was used to it now.

“Tsukki—“  
“Don’t call me that.”

That was the absolute last thing that he wanted to hear come from Yamaguchi’s mouth, that stupid nickname Kuroo and Bokuto had picked up on when they were in high school. It was lame to begin with, and it was cringe-worthy now. He wanted to get practice over with so that he could go home and curl up at his laptop again to talk to Kuroo— rather, Kuroo’s Skype account.

Once he came to the front of the line Tsukishima holds out his hand, gesturing for someone to throw him a ball. Coach Ukai does, and the reluctance on his face was going to age him ten years by the end of this practice.

Coach Ukai tosses him the ball, and Tsukishima doesn’t catch it.

He doesn’t touch it. 

Instead he lets it go by his head and bounce against the wall behind him as his teammates duck out of the way of its trajectory.

“I think I’m going to go home.” 

Tsukishima speaks up quietly, and he clenches his fists as he balls up the hem of his shorts in his hands.

“That might be good.” He didn’t know who said it, but everyone nods in agreement. 

Without another word, Tsukishima turns on his heels to head for the locker room to get changed out of his practice clothes. For some reason everything blurred together and Tsukishima pulls his glasses off of his face to clean the lenses with his shirt. 

No amount of wiping at his glasses made the blur go away, and it wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of himself in a locker room mirror that he realized that there was nothing wrong with his glasses at all. 

His eyes were bleary and turning red around the edges, but not a single tear spills.

* * *

_[5/05/16, 6:19:32 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I’m home._  
 _[5/05/16, 6:19:38 PM] Tsukishima Kei: School sucked, thanks for asking._  
 _[5/05/16, 6:19:47 PM] Tsukishima Kei: But I went to practice, and everyone looked at me like I’d sprouted another limb or something._  
 _[5/05/16, 6:19:51 PM] Tsukishima Kei: None of them mentioned you._  
 _[5/05/16, 6:19:54 PM] Tsukishima Kei: They all looked like they were okay._  
 _[5/05/16, 6:20:07 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Other than them, you were pretty popular today at school with everyone else._  
 _[5/05/16, 6:20:18 PM] Tsukishima Kei: They were saying some pretty nasty stuff._  
 _[5/05/16, 6:20:25 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Some of them thought that you walked in front of the car on purpose._  
 _[5/05/16, 6:20:27 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Hilarious._  
 _[5/05/16, 6:20:30 PM] Tsukishima Kei: You wouldn’t do that._

_[5/05/16, 6:42:38 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Right?_

* * *

Tsukishima didn’t cry.

Rather, Tsukishima _doesn’t_ cry.

The last time he could remember crying was when he was six years old and he’d fallen over playing catch with his brother. Since then, he couldn’t even remember the last time that he wanted to cry to begin with. Crying was for six year olds. To Tsukishima, crying was so goddamn _emasculating_ that he would rather die than be seen with tears streaking down his cheeks.

But after Kuroo left he learned not to joke about dying, and he learned what it felt like to want to cry. That feeling of his throat constricting and every muscle in his body tensing and trembling was a feeling that he never, ever wanted to experience again. 

He didn’t cry, though. Not at Kuroo’s wake, and not when his father first called him downstairs after he had gotten off of the phone with Kuroo’s mother. 

His dad didn’t cry either, but with the look in his eyes said that he expected Tsukishima to.

The exact words that his father spoke were forgotten. Tsukishima could only remember bits and pieces of syllables that his dad may as well have said underwater. 

What Tsukishima did remember was how his mother cringed through smeared mascara as he doubled over the kitchen sink and vomited until he dry heaved and clutched his chest to try to get his ribs to stop feeling like they were caving in.

He could hear his mother’s muffled sobs between heaving and gagging.

As if she had any right to cry and ruin her makeup.

* * *

_[5/18/16, 12:02:49 AM] Tsukishima Kei: It’s been a month since you left._  
 _[5/18/16, 12:02:52 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I miss you a lot._

_[5/18/16, 12:43:02 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I’m pissed at you for leaving. I’m going to punch you in the face the next time I see you._  
_[5/18/16, 12:43:06 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Whenever that is._  
_[5/18/16, 12:47:09 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I still love you._  
_[5/18/16, 12:47:11 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Night._

* * *

It wasn’t fair that in movies when somebody died, that person always—without fail—showed up in dreams. Either to provide words of wisdom or comfort, the person that died never, ever left the screen for too long.

Tsukishima understood it before, but now he couldn’t wrap his head around why the protagonist would always beg that person to stop showing up in their dreams and hallucinations. 

Maybe he watched too many movies, or many he was too stupid to tell the difference between fiction and reality anymore if he spent more time talking to his dead boyfriend over the internet than he did socializing with anyone else, but he wanted to see Kuroo again, even if were in his sleep.

But the few nights he managed to fall asleep were dreamless, and while Tsukishima had never been the religious type, he’d pray before bed for that night to be the night Kuroo comes back. 

Tsukishima prayed to a god he didn’t believe in, and for the first time in his life, he wanted nothing more than to be proven wrong. He wanted to believe that Kuroo wasn’t just rotting and being eaten by worms in the ground. Instead liked to think that he was doing stupid things and enjoying himself too much to check his computer for even a second.

It turned out that no amount of praying made some bearded wizard bastard in the sky listen, and on nights he’d fall asleep, he’d wake up the next morning without any recount of Kuroo.

Those mornings Tsukishima would roll over and pound his fists into his pillow and scream until he lost his voice.

Kuroo wasn’t going to appear in any of his dreams any time soon, and Tsukishima hated himself for thinking that putting his hands together and talking to the sky would make anyone listen.

It was almost as stupid as thinking that if he put his hands on a keyboard and typed enough messages, that his computer would ping for the first time in over a month. 

There was no way that there was a bearded wizard god in the sky. If there were, then he wouldn’t have taken Kuroo away to begin with.

And by the off chance that this fucker of a god _does_ exist, Tsukishima decides that he isn’t a god that deserves any prayer or offering.

* * *

_[5/23/16, 11:48:32 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I tried calling your mom the other day._  
 _[5/23/16, 11:48:36 PM] Tsukishima Kei: She didn’t pick up._  
 _[5/23/16, 11:48:41 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t have picked up if I were her._  
 _[5/23/16, 11:48:47 PM] Tsukishima Kei: But I guess she hasn’t stopped hurting._  
 _[5/23/16, 11:48:53 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I haven't either._  
 _[5/23/16, 11:48:59 PM] Tsukishima Kei: My chest feels like it’s going to explode. I even went to a doctor because I thought I was going to have a heart attack or something._  
 _[5/23/16, 11:49:03 PM] Tsukishima Kei: The asshole told me to “consider seeing a therapist.”_  
 _[5/23/16, 11:49:07 PM] Tsukishima Kei: He can go fuck himself._

* * *

“Are you quitting the volleyball team?”

Yamaguchi approaches him with the question timidly, as if the mere mention of the sport would send Tsukishima into a rampage while they walk to school together. Most of the time Tsukishima insisted on walking alone, but sometimes he’d bump into Yamaguchi on the way and he didn’t have much of an option. 

Which, in hindsight, was strange. Tsukishima still made sure to take the long way to school to avoid the corner Kuroo was hit. Yamaguchi was taking this route to follow him, and there wasn’t much more to it. It was nothing to waste time thinking about. There were much better things that he could have been doing with his time, like avoiding classmates and sitting in front of the computer silently for twelve hours on a school day and sixteen on weekends.

“No.”  
“Oh?”  
“Mm.”  
“It’s just, you haven’t been at prac—“  
“I know.”  
“They’re worried about y—“  
“I don’t care.”  
“Alright, Tsukishima.”

It's the first time that Yamaguchi called him by anything other than 'Tsukki', and Tsukishima slows to a gradual stop.

“Are you okay?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Do you feel si—“  
“No. I forgot something at home. I’ll see you in class.”

Yamaguchi looks at him with the same expression that his mother does when Tsukishima skips meals or when she comes downstairs at four in the morning to see her son sitting in the dark, illuminated by the television playing the same news clip on repeat.

“Okay. I’ll see you later?”  
“Later.”

Once Yamaguchi left his line of vision, Tsukishima turns on his heel to head in the opposite direction of his home. He walks silently, eyes glued to the ground as his feet drag along the sidewalk. 

His feet grow heavier and heavier the closer he gets to his destination, and once he arrives, Tsukishima picks his head up to look at the intersection that he’d been avoiding for over a month.

Tsukishima sits down on the curb where the news anchor said that Kuroo stood before he was hit, and he folds his arms over his knees while staring blankly at the neighborhood. It was the same neighborhood that he’d grown up next to and the same neighborhood his brother taught him volleyball in because their street was, ironically enough, too busy. And as he grew older, he stopped playing volleyball with his brother and the neighborhood became nothing more than another sidewalk on route to school.

Now the intersection was where his boyfriend and ‘Tsukki’ died. 

Tsukishima drags his fingers over the sidewalk, and even as his classmates walk past him, he didn’t think he could ever feel any more alone.

* * *

_[5/29/16, 5:50:34 AM] Tsukishima Kei: The EMTs said that you died on impact and that you didn’t feel anything._  
 _[5/29/16, 5:50:37 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Which is so fucking unfair._  
 _[5/29/16, 5:50:40 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I don’t want to feel anything either._  
 _[5/29/16, 5:50:45 AM] Tsukishima Kei: It’s really not funny anymore, Kuroo._  
 _[5/29/16, 5:51:03 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I need you to wake up. I need you to wake up so bad. I hate this. I hate you. I hate talking to you like this. It’s so fuckng embarrasisng. i just neeed you t o wake up plea se_

* * *

“Kei, someone’s here to see you!”

Tsukishima hardly heard his mother’s voice anymore. She had given up on trying to get him to talk, and learned that giving her son some space was all she could do. His father was the same, and while Akiteru came to stay for the first two weeks after Kuroo died, he had a life of his own to return to.

Tsukishima, on the other hand, didn’t have a life to return to, just a ceiling to stare at day in and day out as he lies in bed. What little life he had to begin with was buried in the ground and decomposing with each passing day. Now his life consisted of going to school sporadically, and when he wasn’t staring blankly ahead in a class he couldn’t remember the name of, he sat in the living room watching the same clip he told his brother he would delete from the DVR one day. 

If he wasn’t doing any of that, Tsukishima stared at his laptop with his fingers hovering over the keys so that if it were to ping, he wouldn’t keep Kuroo waiting.

“I’m coming.”

His own voice caught Tsukishima off guard, and he clears his throat before slowly sitting up in bed and combing through his hair with his fingers. His hair had grown unruly and unmanageable, but he didn’t care. There wasn’t anyone he wanted to impress with his looks. Kuroo would have told him he looked handsome either way.

Tsukishima grabs his glasses off of his nightstand before dragging himself onto his feet and down the stairs to greet whoever it was that came to see him. Maybe it would be Kuroo. Maybe Kuroo was standing there, waiting to lunge at him with open arms and say that this was all just one cruel joke that everyone was in on. His mom would say something stupid like ‘Surprise!’, and Tsukishima wouldn’t even smack or punch Kuroo. He’d kiss him and cup his face and tell him that he was an idiot and that he loved him and—

“… Bokuto?” 

* * *

_[6/08/16, 6:12:50 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I woke up this morning and I couldn’t remember which cheek you had that dimple on._  
_[6/08/16, 6:12:54 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I cried for the first time since I was six._  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more elaboration/explanation/flashbacks in the next (few) chapter(s).. another chapter i didn't proofread as much as i'd like but i wanted to post it!
> 
> well thats the end of this fanfiction remember to kudos the fanfiction comment the fanfiction and bookmark if you wanna see fanfictions similar to this one
> 
> see ya
> 
> (also thank you if you commented on my first chapter and i didn't respond! i felt like i was starting to get a little repetitive ahah... but it really does mean the world that you guys took the time to leave me nice messages... or to tell me that i made you cry :'^) i love it)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can't have a death fic without [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hn4EIv1-uz0)

“You could afford to smile more often, Tsukki.”

Kuroo made sure to say that at least twice for every date that he and Tsukishima went on, as if it was just as profound the hundredth that he said it as it was the first. Tsukishima couldn’t eat a meal or watch a movie in peace without Kuroo nudging and nuzzling his ear while purring those words. And every time that Kuroo made the suggestion, Tsukishima grumbled and rolled his eyes while elbowing his side.

“Give me a reason to and I will.”

This time the date was in Tsukishima’s living room, the couple seated in front of the television with a fleece blanket thrown over both sets of shoulders. Tsukishima said that it was to keep warm, and Kuroo said that it was just because he wanted to cuddle. It was too dark outside for Tsukishima’s liking to go on their date to the park as they initially planned, but thankfully his parents were thoughtful enough to go upstairs and leave the pair alone. Kuroo’s visits were few and far in between when he was busy with college, but he always came with stories and stayed for a few nights.

“Me being here is one good reason.”  
“You have to be here. It’s what good boyfriends do.”  
“True. I guess you’re stuck with me forever.”  
“Gross.”  
“Come on, don’t be like that.”

Tsukishima would turn his nose up at Kuroo’s affectionate gestures, and he’d pretend that they didn’t make something in his chest flutter. Despite it all, Tsukishima had a feeling that Kuroo knew the effect that he had on him since he played it up to his own advantage.

“Forever is a long time, you know? So you better get used to me being ‘gross.’” Kuroo sneers, one arm snaking around Tsukishima’s waist to tug him close while peppering more kisses along Tsukishima’s shoulder, and up his neck until he reached his jaw. Each press of lips sent a shiver down Tsukishima’s spine that Kuroo soothed by running his palm up and down his side. 

“It is a long time.”  
“And I’m not letting you shake me off.”  
“Great.”  
“Someone’s excited.”

Kuroo never seemed to be offended by how cold he could be, and Tsukishima could appreciate that he didn’t have to wear his heart on his sleeve to satisfy his boyfriend.

He pushes Tsukishima onto his back, the blanket that had been wrapped around their shoulders now tossed over the arm of the couch so that Kuroo could press a kiss to the inside of Tsukishima’s bent knee, then his stomach through the thin fabric of his shirt, and up to his collarbone before speaking up again.

“I love you, you know that?”  
“You tell me at least a dozen times a day.”  
“But do you know that I mean it?”

Tsukishima thins his lips, nodding his head a bit too stiffly for Kuroo’s liking.

“I do mean it.” Kuroo lowers his voice, and while it was strange to hear him talk in a tone so far from his usual playful tease, it was comforting at the same time. “I know that you mean it when you say it to me.” He reaches one hand up to pull off Tsukishima’s glasses, and Kuroo bumps their foreheads together to force eye contact. “Is that a good enough reason to smile?”

In response, Tsukishima immediately loops his arms around Kuroo’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss. It caught Kuroo off guard, but it took no more than a few seconds for him to reciprocate. 

Tsukishima kisses him hard, but without teeth and tongue. Fingers run through Kuroo’s hair and down his back while whatever show they had been watching droned on in the background.

Tsukishima kisses him hard, and he smiles just for Kuroo, letting him feel it instead of see it. Kuroo was perfectly content with feeling that quirk of Tsukishima’s lips, and he pulls away once he felt red in the face.

“I knew you’d have a cute smile.”  
“You didn’t even see it.”  
“I know. But I’ll see it again.”  
“What makes you think that?”  
“Because forever is a long fuckin’ time and I’m bound to make you do it again.”

The blush creeping over Tsukishima’s face was unavoidable, and he presses a palm to Kuroo’s face to push him back so he wouldn’t see the second smile that creeped onto his face whether he liked it or not.

“There it is! See, it’s cute, I told you.”  
“Shut up.”  
“You love me.”  
“I do.”  
“I love you too.”

Tsukishima kisses him hard, blissfully unaware of that being the last time that he would get the chance to kiss Kuroo again.

* * *

_[6/19/16, 10:49:54 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I went to church yesterday._  
 _[6/19/16, 10:49:59 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Let me explain myself before you start laughing._  
 _[6/19/16, 10:50:07 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I’m getting a little desperate to talk to you again is all._  
 _[6/19/16, 10:50:15 PM] Tsukishima Kei: And I figured that going to church would be a better idea than going out into the woods and doing some weird voodoo to bring you back to life._  
 _[6/19/16, 10:50:17 PM] Tsukishima Kei: But I digress._  
 _[6/19/16, 10:50:25 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Anyways, it wasn’t to me in specific, but the pastor said something like…_  
 _[6/19/16, 10:50:29 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I’ll look it up, hold on._  
 _[6/19/16, 10:51:18 PM] Tsukishima Kei: “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”_  
 _[6/19/16, 10:51:22 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Sounds like bullshit, right?_  
 _[6/19/16, 10:51:29 PM] Tsukishima Kei: But I heard it, and for a second, I felt alright. Not good. Just alright._  
 _[6/19/16, 10:51:38 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Then I remembered that there wasn’t a single good thing that “The Lord” has done for me in the past two months._  
 _[6/19/16, 10:51:43 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Remind me to never go to church again._

__

* * *

Whatever gremlin of a creature that his mother had let into the house startles Tsukishima. If it weren’t for his eyebrows, there was no way that Tsukishima would have guessed that it was Bokuto standing no more than a few feet ahead of him.

The guy looked like a train wreck. He’d stopped doing whatever the hell he did with his hair to keep it sticking up, and the black and white strands had grown out and plastered to his face with grease. 

“Ey, Tsukki—“  
“You look like shit.”

His mother doesn’t react to the curse, and he could only assume that it was because she didn’t realize it was Bokuto standing in front of her until Tsukishima said his name. He couldn’t blame her. The first and only time that she’d seen Bokuto was at Kuroo’s wake where he was supposed to talk about what a great friend Kuroo was, but instead wailed and sobbed at the front of the room until he couldn’t make any more sounds and he crumpled into a heap. Everyone was too polite to be embarrassed, and no one stared. There was something so heartbreaking and pathetic about hearing a grown man cry, and since then, Tsukishima couldn’t get the sound of Bokuto’s sobs out of his head. 

The toll Kuroo’s death had taken on Bokuto was clear on his face, and Tsukishima wonders if he looks just as bad.

“You don’t look so hot yourself, y’know?”

Apparently he does.

But Tsukishima had always been a little gangly, too tall and with not enough muscle no matter how much he exercised and ate. The Bokuto that he’d known was broad shouldered with taut muscles that even Kuroo envied. The man standing in front of him looked emaciated, his cheeks hollowed out, and the bags under his eyes detracted from his owlish eyes.

“Shouldn’t you be in colle—“  
“Come on a walk with me, Tsukki.”

Tsukishima doesn’t ask Bokuto to stop calling him by that nickname. ‘Tsukki’ may have been buried with Kuroo, but hearing it from Bokuto was refreshing. If he concentrated hard enough, he could hear Kuroo singing the nickname alongside his best friend.

“Can we just talk inside?”  
“Nah. I don’t wanna. Do you have a ball somewhere around here?”

Bokuto cocks his head to the side as he takes it upon himself to roam around the foyer, as if he’d keep a volleyball there. Coming to the conclusion that he didn’t have much of an option in the matter, Tsukishima sighs before nudging Bokuto back out the door.

“I have one in my room. Stay here.”  
“Gotcha.”

* * *

_[6/22/16, 03:22:59 AM] Tsukishima Kei: So._  
 _[6/22/16, 03:23:05 AM] Tsukishima Kei: How many times do I have to say that I miss you before you come back?_  
 _[6/22/16, 03:23:08 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Or “I love you”?_  
 _[6/22/16, 03:23:15 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Or how many times do you have to watch me cry like a goddamn baby before you start pitying me and wake up?_

_[6/22/16, 03:29:48 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I didn’t mean to snap at you._  
_[6/22/16, 03:29:54 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But Kuroo, waiting for you is so exhausting._  
_[6/22/16, 03:30:02 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I’m so exhausted, but I don’t think I can stop waiting even if I wanted to._

* * *

“Why are you here?”

It was nice to see a familiar (yet barely recognizable) face for maybe a few minutes before it grew annoying. To think that he was walking alongside Bokuto as he tossed the ball into the air instead of sitting inside with his computer was nerve wracking. 

Kuroo could have been messaging him; he could be missing Kuroo’s messages right now because he was too busy taking Bokuto on a walk. The thought made Tsukishima jittery, and he stuffs his hands into his pockets to hide his trembling fingers. Thinking stupid things like that would only lead to more disappointment in the end once he did get back inside, because dead people don’t type, and dead people don’t care about how many hearbroken and forlorn poems were written for them on Skype. Dead people don’t care because they _can’t_ care, and accepting that was proving to be much harder than it should be.

“Have you visited him yet?” Bokuto was just as good at avoiding questions as he was at annoying the hell out of Tsukishima. The sound of the volleyball hitting the palms of Bokuto’s hands alone was enough to make Tsukishima grit his teeth. Getting that ball was the first time that he’d touched a volleyball since Kuroo left, and he wasn’t about to touch it again, no matter how many times Bokuto held it out to him to ask if he wanted a turn.

“His grave?” It’s impossible to visit Kuroo. Visting Kuroo was an entirely different thing than standing in front of a slab of marble with his name engraved into it. 

“Yeah, that thing.”  
“No.”  
“The hell is wrong with you, kid?” 

Tsukishima narrows his eyes, half tempted to smack the ball out of Bokuto’s hands with the next toss.

“I haven’t had the time.”  
“Yeah, I bet sitting on your ass and doing nothing is really time consuming.”

The way that Bokuto spoke and the way that his lips curved with a smirk bore an almost unnervingly close resemblance to Kuroo.

“You’d be surprised.”  
“I’ve been.”  
“That’s fantastic.”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes, opening his mouth to point out that Bokuto also lived much closer to where Kuroo was buried, but Bokuto interrupts him before he could get a syllable out.

“I go at least once a day.”

That was about as pitiful as Tsukishima sitting at his computer every day waiting for it to ping.

“Shouldn’t you be in college?”  
“I dropped out. Quit volleyball too.”  
“Ah.”  
“It got a little too weird not having a roommate.”

He knew that Bokuto and Kuroo had been roommates because any time that Kuroo would call him from school, he could hear Bokuto yelling in the background for Kuroo to tell Tsukishima that he said hello. 

But he didn’t know that Bokuto was taking Kuroo’s death just as badly as he was. All the time that Tsukishima spent wallowing in self-pity seemed awfully selfish now.

“You should come with me the next time I go to see him.”  
“I’ll pass.”  
“It’s actually pretty nice.”  
“No, it sounds boring.”

Bokuto laughs at that—or at least, he tries to laugh. At first Tsukishima thinks that he’s sick, but he quickly recognizes that voice as the same voice he heard Kuroo’s mother speak with when she’d come to Tsukishima to ask the same question. It was the same voice he heard from himself after screaming into his pillow and biting back tears by hiccupping small, pathetic sobs instead. 

“I guess you’re right. Sometimes it does get boring sitting there.”

Tsukishima narrows his eyes, knowing better than to ask or pry, but he does anyways.

“How long do you sit there?”  
“A couple hours.”  
_”Hours?”_

At least when Tsukishima spent hours on his computer he could multitask at the same time to make himself feel productive. Though multitasking usually entailed reading Kuroo’s obituary on the online local news website. 

“Four or five, usually. Three if it’s raining.”

Bokuto shrugs as if he’d just said what he’d eaten for lunch, and Tsukishima stares at him. 

“No offense, but that’s really sad.”  
“It’s not.”  
“How is it not sad?”  
“It just isn’t.”

There was nothing _not_ sad about dropping out of college in favor of sitting at a dead best friend’s grave for hours every day. Upon closer inspection, Bokuto’s hands and jeans were stained with grass and dirt. He probably came over right after visiting Kuroo’s grave.

“Sad is going back to your dorm and being all, ‘Hey! Kuroo! You won’t believe this super awesome thing that happened today!’ and then realizing that all his shit is gone and that he’s dead. And then doing the same thing every day for a week because you keep forgetting.” Bokuto finally stops tossing the ball in the air, and he holds it in his hands. “It’s a little better going to his grave to tell him whatever that ‘super awesome thing’ was. There I feel like he’s actually listening. But, to be honest, I ran out of things to say a few weeks ago. I guess things just stopped being super awesome.”

“So you’re just sitting in silence—sometimes in the rain, in front of Kuroo’s grave.”  
“Well, when you say it like that it sounds like the saddest thing in the world.”  
“It kind of is.”

Bokuto rolls his eyes, shoving Tsukishima’s shoulder with the volleyball before bouncing it on the ground instead. That was probably going to ruin the leather, but Tsukishima didn’t care. He wasn’t about to use that thing any time soon anyways.

“That’s enough about me, though. I didn’t come here to talk about myself.”  
“I wouldn’t know. You won’t tell me why you’re here to begin with.”  
“I want you to take me to the corner, that’s all.”

Tsukishima thins his lips, and he sighs. They’d been going in the opposite direction the entire time.

“You could have said so earlier.”  
“I didn’t want you to slam the door in my face. Or run back inside.”  
“Uhhuh.”  
“And I wanted to know how you were doing, don’t get pissy.”

‘Pissy’ seemed like Kuroo and Bokuto’s favorite word to describe him with.

“I’m doing fine.”  
“I mean—you look about as shitty as I do.”

Pissy and shitty. That also sounded like how he felt the past two months. Maybe Bokuto did have a point.

“Thank you, Bokuto.”  
“No problem.”

At least Bokuto could smile, even if it was half-assed and shaky. He was at least trying while Tsukishima hadn’t been able to bring himself to attempt it. With a sigh, Tsukishima nudges Bokuto’s elbow to turn him around and head for the corner that he was looking for.

“It’s this way.”  
“I knew that.”  
“I’m sure you did.”

* * *

_[6/28/16, 11:21:04 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I hope it’s nice where you are._  
 _[6/28/16, 11:21:09 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I’m sure that if it exists, you’re in heaven right now._  
 _[6/28/16, 11:21:14 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Even if you were a piece of shit most of the time._  
 _[6/28/16, 11:21:20 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Science would say that you’re just under a bunch of dirt._  
 _[6/28/16, 11:22:50 PM] Tsukishima Kei: It would also say that when you died, your body couldn’t regulate temperature or pH, and that sets off all these chemical reactions that are disgusting and I’ll spare you the details. The hospital took good care of you so you wouldn’t smell like rotting flesh at your funeral and so your skin wouldn’t just slough off if anyone touched you. You looked like you were sleeping._  
 _[6/28/16, 11:23:09 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Now there isn’t a hospital taking care of your body. And by now any tissue left on you has probably been eaten away by maggots and there’s nothing left but b_  
 _[6/28/16, 11:23:11 PM] Tsukishima Kei: im going to throw up_

* * *

The walk to the corner wasn’t a long one, but with every step taken, Bokuto slowed down, dragging his feet and staring at the ground. Normally he wouldn’t be able to get the guy to shut up. It was hard to believe that he was the same guy that he couldn’t shake off of him during training camp when he was a first-year, and it was even harder to believe that he was the same guy whose screams and sobs haunted him since Kuroo’s wake. It haunted him more than seeing Kuroo’s body lying in a nest of satin ever did.

“Why was he here?”

Bokuto breaks the silence just before reaching the intersection, and Tsukishima turns to stare at him blankly. That was a bit of a stupid question, but he’d humor him when he looked so miserable.

“He was visiting me for the weekend.”  
“But he died on a Monday.”  
“Yeah, he was leaving Monday night. It was a student holiday for me, and he wouldn’t listen when I said that he should go to his classes.”  
“And he was walking back to the train station when he got hit?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Why weren’t you with him?”  
“It was late and he said he didn’t want me walking home from the station by myself.”

Tsukishima stops at the corner, and he turns to look at Bokuto. He seemed far more interested in the ball in his hands than the corner. 

“We’re he—“  
“Do you ever blame yourself?”  
“… What?”  
“Have you ever thought that it’s your fault that Kuroo got hit?”

The question made his stomach sink, and Tsukishima contemplates whether he should punch Bokuto in the gut or if he should just run home before he made himself sick.

“I mean—“  
“I have.”  
“Why would it have been your fault?”  
“Not me, you. I thought it was your fault.”

The look on Bokuto’s face was more shocking than the words leaving his mouth. There wasn’t an ounce of tease in his words or eyes, and Bokuto remains straight faced as he silently sits down on the curb. He nods his head in a gesture for Tsukishima to sit beside him, and while Tsukishima wanted to kick him in the skull while he was down, he doesn’t.

“I thought that you could have stopped him from leaving. If he left just a few seconds later, he wouldn’t have been here at the same time that car was. Or if you walked with him, you could have yanked the moron back onto the curb before he got hit.”  
“Oh.”  
“But it’s not your fault, and it took me a while to realize that blaming you wasn’t going to help anyone. Also if I blamed you any more, Kuroo would beat the shit out of me in the afterlife.”  
“Hah.”  
“It just happened, and getting upset over it doesn’t help anyone.”

Tsukishima slowly sits down on the curb just a few inches to Bokuto’s right, and he stares at the asphalt in silence. Bokuto had taken to bouncing the ball again, and this time it didn’t bother Tsukishima in the slightest. There were too many thoughts to sort out and questions that he wanted to ask for him to think about the ball. His own thoughts were starting to give him a headache.

“The kids at school talked about him for over a month.” Tsukishima spoke quietly, hugging his knees to his chest and swallowing thickly between sentences. “And they all came up with these stupid reasons for why Kuroo was where he was. Most people just thought the guy driving was drunk, or that Kuroo was drunk, but some of them think that he just... Walked out in front of the car on purpose?”

Bokuto stops the ball again, holding it between his feet as he slowly turns to look at Tsukishima with an incredulous look on his face.

He stares for a solid minute before bursting out laughing. It wasn’t the strained, raspy laugh like before. Bokuto clutches his stomach and shakes his head with hysterical cackles. Tsukishima blinks, wondering if the guy had just gone off the deep end or if he thought that the idea of his best friend committing suicide was hilarious.

“Do you really think that he’d do that? Kuroo?”  
“Well, it’s a possib—“  
“Nope. Not at all. He’d never.”  
“How do you know?”

Tsukishima knits his brows together and his jaw clenches tight. Being laughed at was the worst, especially when they were on the subject of Kuroo’s death.

“Because, he never shut up about you.”  
“That doesn’t mean anything.”  
“Shut up and let me talk.”

Bokuto holds a finger to his lips, and Tsukishima sighs before doing as he was asked. He bites his tongue and Bokuto wipes a tear from his eye that swelled from his laughing fit.

“It was so annoying. You were all he’d talk about. Every fuckin’ night before bed, it was the same shit.”

Bokuto smiles, and it’s the first genuine smile that Tsukishima had seen in months.

“He’d say, ‘Bokuto, I’m crazy about this kid. I’m in love with him.’ And I’d tell him that I know, and that I was happy for him. Then he’d just smile this big, stupid smile, and you know what he’d say next?”  
“What?”  
_“’I’m going to marry him one day, dude, I know it.’”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i made a [writing blog](http://bbarfs.tumblr.com/) where i guess i'll post when this fic updates... also drabbles if i get around to them?! and fill requests if anyone would like... i'll write happy stuff as well! promise!
> 
> also this chapter might be a little sloppier than the last two... i cut my hand open the other day and it hurts a lil to type but whatever :v blood sweat and tears goes into kurotsuki..


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [:-) song ofc](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QXYM6-X8c3o)

_[7/05/16, 09:15:20 PM] Tsukishima Kei: You know how people say that when you die, your life flashes before your eyes? Something lame like that._  
_[7/05/16, 09:15:23 PM] Tsukishima Kei: What was it like for you?_  
_[7/05/16, 09:15:28 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I mean, I love you and all and I’m not trying to be an ass or anything… but your life was pretty boring._  
_[7/05/16, 09:15:32 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Did you just see a bunch of volleyball games? And schoolwork?_  
_[7/05/16, 09:15:42 PM] Tsukishima Kei: That and you didn’t really live long enough to have some sort of cinematic masterpiece to watch before you went into the light or whatever._  
_[7/05/16, 09:15:46 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I’m guessing that it was as short as it was boring. Sorry I couldn’t have made it more interesting._  
_[7/05/16, 09:15:51 PM] Tsukishima Kei: But I like to tell myself that you got to see what would have happened in your life if you weren’t stupid enough to get hit._  
_[7/05/16, 09:16:02 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Maybe you could have seen your college graduation, and getting your first job, and maybe you’d make something out of volleyball and you’d get to see it become a career._  
_[7/05/16, 09:16:05 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I know that I told you to remind me to never go to church again._  
_[7/05/16, 09:16:10 PM] Tsukishima Kei: But maybe you could have seen the inside of one again?_  
_[7/05/16, 09:16:17 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Except instead of you lying dead in a casket, you’d be standing at the altar with me._

_[7/05/16, 09:40:29 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Just kidding, I’d never let you marry me in a church._

_[7/05/16, 09:53:41 PM] Tsukishima Kei: But if you asked me to marry you sometime in the future, I would have said yes, you know._

* * *

“You’re lying.”

If Bokuto’s words were supposed to be comforting, they weren’t. Tsukishima grits his teeth as he turns to glare daggers at him, just to have the look on Bokuto’s face stop him immediately. His smile was still there only with a twinge of sadness behind it. Initially he thinks it’s pity, and Tsukishima balls his hands into fists at the thought of being pitied by Bokuto of all people, but he comes to realize that it wasn’t pity at all. Bokuto genuinely sympathized with him, unlike his parents who gave him awkward pats on the back and tousle his hair, and unlike his teammates who averted their eyes whenever they crossed paths at school. 

“Trust me, I couldn’t make up something that sappy even if I wanted to.”  
“You have a point.”  
“I’m right more often than you’d think, Tsukki.”

Bokuto was right again, and Tsukishima was all too aware of it. Bokuto was the one that pulled him out of his slump his first year of high school, and Bokuto was the one that had him playing volleyball for reasons other than having nothing better to do. To think that the same person who had mentored him in high school was now sitting on the curb beside him where his best friend had died was as heartbreaking as Kuroo’s failed dreams of marriage. 

“Yeah, I guess you are right.”

Bokuto looks at him with an incredulous expression, and Tsukishima doesn’t bother to humor him with some snarky response. Instead he hugs his knees to his chest as he stares ahead at the asphalt. Bokuto does the same, and Tsukishima knew that they were both thinking of how Kuroo’s blood splattered over the road just a few months ago.

“I never thought I’d ever hear you say that.”  
“Hah.”  
“But, I mean. I never thought that I’d ever hear that Kuroo was dead either, you know?”

Tsukishima wonders how Bokuto reacted at the news. Bokuto didn’t strike him as the type to throw up in a sink and wipe at his mouth with the back of his hand like he was fine as Tsukishima did. If anything, he imagined Bokuto to wail and scream and throw fists at the ground and wall until his knuckles bled and his throat went raw.

There was something so sickening about listening someone he’d (secretly) looked up to in the past now speak with emptiness in his voice that reverberated in his own hollow chest and made Tsukishima’s heart ache even more. Kuroo had broken his heart by dying, but Bokuto was smashing it into bits and grinding it into the asphalt by talking about it. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Tsukishima finally exhales despite how much he preferred the silence over Bokuto’s voice. He was saying things that he locked up in the back of his mind for weeks, only to let them out in the form of text on a computer screen, and hearing it out loud only made it hurt more.

“It sucks, dude.”  
“It does.”  
“I hate it.”  
“I hate it too.”  
“I miss him.”  
“So do I.”  
“He’s not waking up, is he, Tsukki?”

Despite flinching at the question, Tsukishima keeps a straight face as he glances at Bokuto from the corner of his eye. He may as well have been looking in a mirror. Bokuto had his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms hugging himself tight while he scanned his dulled eyes over the intersection. 

Instead of telling Bokuto that Kuroo would wake up because he made him promise that he would, Tsukishima sighs and presses his forehead to his knees.

“No, he’s not.”

“Fu—ck.” Bokuto’s voice cracks, and as much as he would have poked fun at him for it a few months ago, Tsukishima ignores it. He’d heard his own voice do the same exact thing more times than he could count.

“Do you want to go?” Tsukishima asks after making sure that Bokuto wasn’t crying. If he was, he was doing a good job of keeping it quiet and far from the wails and screams that he’d heard at Kuroo’s wake.

“No.”  
“Alright.”  
“Can I stay here a little longer?”

It was a strange question for Bokuto to ask, and Tsukishima furrows his brows. Bokuto had never been the type to ask anyone for permission to do anything, but now he was asking permission to sit and stare out into a road.

“You can do whatever the hell you want.”  
“Can you stay with me?”

The smart thing to say would have been no. Tsukishima knew that he could spend his time better by sitting in his room with his laptop to wait for a quiet ping to prove him wrong about everything he’d been coming to terms with since Kuroo’s death. 

But there wasn’t a single smart thing that Tsukishima had done in the past two months. He’d only done stupid things. He was stupid to let Kuroo leave on his own, stupid to walk out of volleyball practice, and stupid to spend sleepless nights staring at his computer as if he could force it to ping by sheer willpower alone after he learned that prayer did nothing.

“Yeah.”  
“Thanks.”  
“No problem.”

* * *

_[7/07/16, 11:23:11 PM] Tsukishima Kei: You haven’t woken up yet._  
 _[7/07/16, 11:23:14 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I still love you, don’t get me wrong._  
 _[7/07/16, 11:23:19 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But I’m starting to forget a lot more about you than I thought I would_  
 _[7/07/16, 11:23:23 AM] Tsukishima Kei: It’s getting really hard for me to remember what you sounded like. Or felt like._  
 _[7/07/16, 11:23:29 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Seeing your body at your wake wasn’t scary, but forgetting you is starting to freak me out._  
 _[7/07/16, 11:23:35 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I would really like it if you’d wake up before I forget everything._

__

* * *

Sitting in silence with Bokuto was surprisingly comforting and not nearly as awkward as Tsukishima expected it to be. He wouldn’t admit it, but Bokuto had always been good company. He had an aura to him that drew people in—just like Kuroo did. It was no surprise that they both got along so well. The aura was gone, though, and Tsukishima figures that it died on the road with Kuroo and ‘Tsukki’.

That and Tsukishima could appreciate some quiet time alone and away from his computer for him to process everything Bokuto had said. The prospect of marriage was one that he’d save for another time, though. He’d save it for when he could cry and scream without bothering the neighbors or startling Bokuto.

It wasn’t until the sun had gone down hours later and dark settled in overhead that Bokuto spoke up, and Tsukishima flinches at the sound of his voice. 

“It’s getting dark.”

It was already dark, but Bokuto was probably aware of that. He sounded hoarse, and if he didn’t know any better, he would have asked Bokuto if he were getting sick.

“It is.”  
“I should head home.”

Bokuto heaves himself up onto his feet, and Tsukishima watches as he stretches his arms over his head. He picks the volleyball back up shortly after, holding it out to Tsukishima to take back inside.

But the thought of Bokuto going home at this hour made his stomach sink, and instead of taking the ball from Bokuto, Tsukishima gets up and grabs his wrist instead. He felt as if the second that he’d let Bokuto out of his sight, that a car would come speeding down the road and leave Tsukishima with one less friend. 

“Don’t.” Tsukishima blurts out the word faster and louder than intended, and Bokuto just about jumps out of his skin.

“What?”  
“Don’t go home.”  
“The hell’s gotten into y—ah…” 

Bokuto glances out to the street one last time before stepping back onto the curb. He was as good as reading people as Kuroo was, and it only made sense for Bokuto to fall silent now that he’d pieced things together. 

“We have a guest room—my brother’s old room.”  
“Christ, Tsukki. At least take me out to dinner before you invite me to stay the night.”  
“Shut up. Just leave in the morning.”  
“Fine.”  
“Thank you.” 

With a sigh of relief, Tsukishima drops his hand from Bokuto’s wrist despite wanting to grip tight in fear that Bokuto would run off the second that he let go. But Bokuto doesn’t run, and Tsukishima was thankful for it. Getting sleep was hard enough as is, getting sleep without knowing if Bokuto made it to the train station in one piece would be impossible.

Either way, he missed having _some_ company, and Bokuto was the only person that he could stand for more than a few minutes.

“Are you at least going to feed me?”  
“No.”  
“You’re a terrible host, you know that?”  
“I don’t care.”

Bokuto tucks the volleyball under one arm as he walks, and the other reaches out to grab Tsukishima’s hand. His first instinct was to yank away, to smack at Bokuto’s hand and shove him aside, but Bokuto was too quick, and Tsukishima grumbles. He wasn’t holding his hand like Kuroo would. There was no intertwining of fingers or affectionate swipes of his thumb over the back of his hand. Instead Bokuto grips tight at his palm, and as much as it hurt, Tsukishima doesn’t dare speak up. Bokuto held his hand the same way Tsukishima gripped at the remote while he watched the same news clip over and over again. Or maybe it resembled more of when Tsukishima heard of Kuroo’s death, how he clutched his chest while dry heaving over the kitchen sink after he’d emptied his stomach of everything but pathetic gags and strangled curses. 

Instead of pulling his hand back, Tsukishima gives a gentle squeeze in return as he tugs Bokuto back towards his home.

Tsukishima makes sure to face forward. It was better that way when he would rather pretend that he couldn’t hear the way that Bokuto’s quiet swears and sniffles muffled the sound of their feet dragging along the sidewalk. 

He’d seen Bokuto cry too many times than he would have liked over the past two months, but at the same time, Tsukishima didn’t think he could be any more jealous of him. Bokuto cried over missing his friend, while Tsukishima selfishly cried over his lover leaving him on his own. 

Bokuto cried over a loss, while Tsukishima bit back tears brought on by Kuroo’s audacity to love him, just to end up dying too soon.

* * *

_[7/14/16, 03:19:22 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Bokuto asked me if I ever thought that it was my fault that you died._  
 _[7/14/16, 03:19:27 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I hadn’t thought of it until he brought it up, and now I can’t stop thinking about it._  
 _[7/14/16, 03:19:31 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Don’t get mad at him, though. It’s a good question._  
 _[7/14/16, 03:19:34 AM] Tsukishima Kei: So I’ll ask you the same one._  
 _[7/14/16, 03:19:39 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Are you mad at me? Is that why you’re not answering me?_  
 _[7/14/16, 03:19:43 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Do you ever think that it’s my fault you died?_  
 _[7/14/16, 03:19:47 AM] Tsukishima Kei: If you do, I don’t blame you._  
 _[7/14/16, 03:19:51 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But know that I’m really fucking sorry, and that I’m mad at me too._

_[7/14/16, 03:48:11 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Promise me you won’t be mad for too long. I miss you._

* * *

Shoving a granola bar in Bokuto’s face satisfied his needs to be fed, and Tsukishima notes just how quickly the guy bounced back after a tear-filled walk home. Still, he could tell that he wasn’t the same Bokuto he’d met at training camp, and Tsukishima came to terms with the fact that Bokuto would never be that same person after Kuroo’s wake. He could bounce around in eager excitement for their ‘sleepover’—as he called it—all he wanted, but the excitement tapered off quickly and abruptly. He was trying his hardest, though, and the fact that he was trying was one more thing for Tsukishima to envy Bokuto for.

As Tsukishima walks Bokuto upstairs to get him situated in his brother’s old room, there wasn’t much to be envious of. He didn’t seem all that willing to go into the guest room, and his grip on Tsukishima’s hand hadn’t loosened in the slightest, which made it a team effort to get the wrapping off of his piss-poor excuse of a dinner. 

“The guest room is right next door to mine.”  
“I’m not tired.”  
“You look tired.”  
“That’s just my face.”

Tsukishima thins his lips, eyes narrowing and mouth opening to comment on how Bokuto looked like he’d just crawled out from under a rock after twenty years, but he doesn’t. He’d had enough of a dejected Bokuto for one day.

“Just _try_ to sleep.”  
“Fine.”  
“Let go of my hand.”  
“Fine!” 

Bokuto huffs as he lets go of Tsukishima’s hand with a yank of his own, and Tsukishima wonders if Bokuto would ever grow up from the child he’d been in high school, or if he’d regressed to his high school self after Kuroo died. 

“Knock on my door if you need anything.”  
“Alright, _mom_.”  
“Don’t call me that.” 

The similarities in how Bokuto and Kuroo spoke were as annoying as they were depressing.

“Goodnight, Bokuto.” Tsukishima knew that he wouldn’t be sleeping at all, but he’d give Bokuto some peace of mind—even if he wouldn’t recognize it as that. 

“Night, Tsukki.”

Tsukishima catches himself from replying with ‘I love you,’ just as he would when Kuroo would say the same words. It was an impulse that wouldn’t go away and Tsukishima grits his teeth at his own stupidity. Bokuto was sleeping one room over. It wasn’t Kuroo, and it would never be Kuroo.

Kuroo would never sleep one room over, anyways. He’d share a bed with him and hog all the sheets in the middle of the night.

He’d chastise himself for his near Freudian slip later. Tsukishima was far more interested in checking his computer for alerts or messages, even if he knew he’d be greeted with software updates and unread junk mail. 

Telling Bokuto to sleep in the guest room was a stupid idea when his own bed felt too large for comfort. Misery really did love company—as it turned out—in the form of a gross, greasy ex-mentor covered in snot and tears. 

Tsukishima lies down in bed, and the whir of his laptop and the screen illuminating the walls of his bedroom weren’t nearly as comforting as they were a few days ago.

* * *

_[7/22/16, 07:20:44 PM] Tsukishima Kei: My mom keeps telling me that I need to move on and try to forget about you._  
 _[7/22/16, 07:20:49 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Which I think—no offense to her—is the rudest shit I’ve heard in my entire life._  
 _[7/22/16, 07:20:55 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Not to mention the fact that it’s impossible. I’m forgetting whether I like it or not, but I can’t make an unconscious decision to move on._  
 _[7/22/16, 07:21:09 PM] Tsukishima Kei: How the hell does she expect me to forget you when I can feel you breathing down my neck? Or when I turn every corner expecting that you’ll be there? Or when I wake up and you’re not there to call me “princess” or “babydoll” and tease me for sleeping so much?_  
 _[7/22/16, 07:21:14 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Maybe I’m not forgetting as much as I thought I was._

* * *

It didn’t come as a surprise to Tsukishima that sleep wouldn’t come and that he’d be left alone with his thoughts once more. Staring at the ceiling should have gotten boring by now, but it was hard to be bored when he felt like he was drowning every night when he crawled into an empty bed with no quiet pings of messages to lull him to sleep. He hadn’t stopped feeling like he was drowning since the news of Kuroo’s death, and Tsukishima ponders know how long it would take before Kuroo would stop holding his head under water.

But this time the silence didn’t last until dawn, when it would be broken by the sound of birds chirping and the neighborhood coming to life. The sound of footsteps broke the silence, and Tsukishima knew better than to expect them to belong to Kuroo. He couldn’t remember what his footsteps sounded like anymore, but it definitely didn’t sound like that. Tsukishima takes a deep sigh, and as the door swings open, he turns to squint through the dark to try and make out the figure on the other side of the doorframe.

“Tsukki.”  
“What do you want? It’s late.”

He reaches out to swipe at finger over the track pad of his laptop to check the time, blinking and grimacing at the light of the screen interrupting the pitch black of his room. It was four in the morning, and neither of them could get any sleep. Still, he felt an awful lot like how he’d imagine a parent would feel while consoling a child that had woken up from a bad dream. Bokuto probably wished that he could wake up from this, just as Tsukishima wished that Kuroo would.

“Did I wake you up?”  
“No.”  
“Then it’s not late.”

Bokuto didn’t have a problem in the slightest with inviting himself inside, but Tsukishima could at least be thankful that he closed the door behind him. With his laptop light on, he could make out Bokuto’s figure as he came closer, and Tsukishima props himself up on his elbows expectantly.

“Do you sleep with this thing on?” Bokuto taps a finger on his laptop, and Tsukishima swats his hand away. “You’re gonna ruin the battery that way.”

“I know.”

The room goes silent again, and Bokuto sits down on the edge of his bed. In the dark, Tsukishima could only barely make out how swollen and bloodshot his eyes were, and he wonders to himself just how many tears could possibly be left in this guy to shed before he dehydrated himself. 

“Have you been sleeping ever since he left?” Bokuto stares at the wall on the other end of the room, looking away from Tsukishima and towards the door that he’d just walked through. Tsukishima figures that he was expecting Kuroo to walk in, just like he imagined for the past two months.

“Kinda.”  
“How much is kinda?”  
“I don’t know, four or five hours a night? Sometimes every other night.”  
“Sounds like you’re better off than me.”

Bokuto laughs, and Tsukishima cocks his head to the side. It didn’t take too much to know that Bokuto wasn’t doing well, his physical appearance said that much. But with the strained smiles and forced laughs, Tsukishima had expected him to be better off. Then again, he could imagine that faking smiles and laughs was a harder task than staying silent and straight faced like he had been doing himself.

“I get—what? Two hours of sleep on a good day?” 

To Tsukishima—and probably every doctor in the world—it was some sort of miracle that Bokuto hadn’t passed out or gone insane at this point. But he wasn’t in any position to point fingers and judge.

“That sucks.”  
“Yeah, it does.”  
“… You can sleep here if you want.”  
“Oh?”

Bokuto glances over his shoulder, and Tsukishima averts his gaze. Suddenly the blanket laid over his lap was far more interesting than what Bokuto had to say.

“Yeah. Just stay on that side.”  
“Then I gotta move…”

He taps on his laptop again, and Tsukishima cringes at the thought of sleeping without his laptop beside him. It was the closest thing to Kuroo he had, and Bokuto wanted to get rid of it. But Tsukishima was sure that Bokuto would have been Kuroo’s best man at their imaginary wedding, so he’d consider this a consolation prize.

“Alright.”

Bokuto hesitates for a moment, but he ends up shutting his laptop to set on the ground beside his bed. Wordlessly, Bokuto slips in under the sheets, and Tsukishima lies back down on his side with his back facing Bokuto, and Bokuto does the same. 

Much to his disappointment, sharing a bed with someone didn’t make Tsukishima feel any less lonely than he did without someone beside him. All he could think about was how unfaithful he felt towards a dead man by lying beside his former best friend. By the way that Bokuto’s shoulders shook and made the mattress vibrate beneath him, Tsukishima could tell that they were on the same page. There wasn’t anything more pathetic than feeling lonely while sharing the bed with someone, and yet Tsukishima’s chest hurt and Bokuto was still crying.

“Are you okay?” Tsukishima breaks the silence this time, asking the question softly as he turns to lie on his other side. He stares at the back of Bokuto’s head, and for a moment, silence falls over the room again.

“Honestly? I don’t think so.”  
“I figured.”

If Tsukishima thought that Bokuto’s mood swings were bad in high school, they were a dozen times worse now, and he couldn’t even blame him for it. The only person to blame was Kuroo, and he had done enough of getting angry with Kuroo for things that he couldn’t help. 

“I miss him a lot.” 

Tsukishima sighs, noting that the conversation was awfully similar to the one that they had outside on the curb.

“I know.”  
“He was my best friend.”  
“I know.”  
“He wasn’t even twenty.”  
“I know.”  
“He’s dead.”  
“I know.”  
“Like, dead forever.”  
“That’s generally the case, yeah.”  
“Dead.”  
“Mmhm.”  
“It’s shitty.”  
“I know.”  
“He’s dead.”  
“You just sai—“  
“Dead—like, dead, dead.”

With every iteration of Kuroo’s death, Tsukishima swore that his chest was going to explode. It took more willpower than he would have liked to admit for him not to shove Bokuto off of his bed and tell him that he was going to have to sleep on the floor if he kept talking. But any words were caught in the back of his throat, and Bokuto was still shaking.

“He’s dead.” Bokuto murmurs to himself and Tsukishima grits his teeth. “Dead.” Tsukishima’s eyes screw shut, and he rubs at them with the heel of his hands. “Kuroo’s dead.” The tears were coming, and Tsukishima forces them back the best that he could, knowing that he’d never forgive himself for crying in front of Bokuto. “I can’t fucking believe he’s dead—“

“Stop! Fucking stop!” 

Bokuto goes silent, and Tsukishima does as well. His own voice was unrecognizable, and he swallows dryly as he opens his eyes again. Bokuto had stopped trembling, and now Tsukishima was the one with shaky hands and wet eyes.

“Stop, Bokuto. I know.”

He was met with more silence. Tsukishima opens his mouth to apologize for his outburst, but his words came out as choked sobs of syllables, and each phoneme was lost between hiccupped cries.

Tsukishima hardly processes Bokuto rolling over to face him, and he doesn’t register the hand cupping his cheek. His jaw clenches tight as Tsukishima tries to turn to press his face into the pillow, but the hand holding his face was now gripping his chin. 

Bokuto kisses him, and Tsukishima sobs against his lips. He grips at the front of Bokuto’s shirt instead of shoving him away. He didn’t have to be in his right mind to know that there wasn’t an ounce of romance or lust behind the kiss. It was all pity, and Tsukishima kisses him back. 

He wasn’t sure if he could taste Bokuto’s tears or his own—but it didn’t matter. Bokuto had given him the saddest kiss of his life, and Tsukishima couldn’t pity anyone but himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update... but schools catching up to me and i got sick and i still am sick and ahh @__@  
> it's a pretty dense chapter.. sorry about that also... but i'll make sure to tie together loose ends and address everything that needs addressing.. promise :")
> 
> and heres my [writing blog](http://bbarfs.tumblr.com/) again! 
> 
> thanks for reading!! smooches ya


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ["i don't want to live my life alone"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ojYK6CW8gdw)

_[7/23/16, 09:25:33 PM] Tsukishima Kei: You know, I really did think that I could wait forever for you to hold up your end of the promise and actually wake up._  
_[7/23/16, 09:25:38 PM] Tsukishima Kei: But I’m just starting to realize what an idiot I am._  
_[7/23/16, 09:25:45 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Not because I thought that you could wake up. A part of me still thinks that you’re asleep somewhere and missing me just as much as I’m missing you._  
_[7/23/16, 09:25:53 PM] Tsukishima Kei: But I was stupid to think that “forever” is anything but a construct. You and I would know better than anyone that it doesn’t exist._  
_[7/23/16, 09:25:57 PM] Tsukishima Kei: “You’re stuck with me forever” my ass. You know I hate it when you lie._  
_[7/23/16, 09:26:00 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Well, I guess it wasn’t really a lie. It was forever for you._

* * *

To be lulled to sleep by stifled sobs was something that Tsukishima had grown used to. He learned to cope by smearing tears over his pillowcase and to muffle screams of pain and misery into his mattress in a way that wouldn’t wake his parents. Frustrations and sadness were pent up over the course of a day for Tsukishima to let out when everyone went to bed. As lonely as it was, it was the best way of coping that Tsukishima could come up with that didn’t involve pulling open his laptop to send novels, poems and love songs to Kuroo that would never be heard or read by anyone but himself.

Pulling open his laptop to send novels, poems and love songs had no place in the middle of the night as a poor excuse for company. Tsukishima much preferred that kind of company when he got home from school, when he skipped meals and sat in front of the television to watch the news clip months after Kuroo’s death, when it was five in the morning and he couldn’t get a second of sleep. 

Still, Tsukishima would have guessed that someone kissing him to sleep would have been more comforting than crying and screaming into pillows, but by the time morning came around, Tsukishima felt even more exhausted than he did before he fell sleep. He takes a mental note that two hours of sleep wasn’t any better than no sleep at all before rolling over to face Bokuto.

Bokuto’s back, rather.

Tsukishima couldn’t blame Bokuto for not wanting to face him after a night of what he would have called kisses if they weren’t more like uncomfortable mashings of salty, quivering lips and choked sobs. None of what happened the night before constituted a good kiss, and yet, the sinking feeling in his stomach that he had been unfaithful wouldn’t go away.

“Bokuto.”

He doesn’t respond, but by the way that his shoulders tense, Tsukishima knew Bokuto heard him. Which was a strange feeling—he hadn’t felt heard since before Kuroo died and soft pings of his laptop confirmed that there was someone listening (reading) on the other side of the monitor. 

_”Bokuto.”_

Bokuto responds with a click. The click of a trackpad that makes Tsukishima flinch and sit up straight. 

“Stop touching that.” 

It was a bad idea to invite Bokuto into his room to begin with. It was hard to feel unfaithful towards Kuroo now when Kuroo was lying on the other side of Bokuto. Or at least, his laptop was lying on the other side of Bokuto, but it didn’t make any difference. Tsukishima snatches his computer away, and he smacks Bokuto on the shoulder, at which Bokuto grumbles and looks at him from the corner of his eye.

“And you said it was sad that I still go to talk to Kuroo every day.”

Bokuto replies simply, and there wasn’t a hint of smugness in his voice for Tsukishima to get angry at.

“It’s different.”  
“How? Just ‘cause you’re staying at home?”  
“Yes. Exactly.”  
“You really need to get some air, Tsukki.”  
“And you really need to take a shower.”  
“Yeah, yeah.”

Tsukishima narrows his eyes before grabbing his glasses off of his nightstand to pull on. From what he could tell, Bokuto didn’t fiddle around with his laptop at all. He only pulled up his Skype and scrolled through his messages to Kuroo. Strangely enough, he had the courtesy to not scroll past the messages sent between him and Kuroo before his passing. 

“It’s not good for you, you know that, right?”

As if Tsukishima hadn’t been telling himself that since the first message he sent to a dead Kuroo.

“And it’s not good for you to sit outside pretending to talk to Kuroo every day.”  
“Yeah.”  
“So shu—“  
“I guess we’re both pretty messed up, huh?”  
“Like I was trying to say; shut up.”

Bokuto gives Tsukishima the same sad smile that he plastered on his face for a good portion the day before. Tsukishima couldn’t quite find it in himself to smack it off of his face.

The fact that the kisses from the night before hadn’t been brought up should have raised red flags, but Bokuto looked as if nothing happened at all, and Tsukishima could only assume he looked the same. Maybe there was nothing to talk about. They both woke up with all their clothes on, that’s all that really mattered. Hopefully Kuroo would turn a blind eye. 

“Hey, Tsukki.”

As much as he didn’t want to talk to Bokuto when he had enough to process as is, Tsukishima replies with a grunt anyways.

“Do you really think that Kuroo’s gonna message you back one day?”

Tsukishima thins his lips, and he glances down at the laptop that he’d confiscated from Bokuto. His eyes slide shut, and Tsukishima tips his head back against the wall adjacent to his bed. Bokuto was asking him questions that he became too familiar with over the past few weeks, but he couldn’t be angry with him. 

“Yeah, I do.”  
“Wow.”  
“What?”  
“Nothing.”

Bokuto was probably going to bring up how Tsukishima was the very person who said that Kuroo wasn’t going to wake up, and that Kuroo wasn’t going to come back, but pointing out his hypocrisy wouldn’t help anyone cope.

“Also, Tsukki.”  
“It’s too early to be talking to you.”  
“Do you think Kuroo’s gonna be mad?”

Tsukishima didn’t have to ask Bokuto what Kuroo would be mad about to know what he meant. 

“No.”  
“How come?”  
“You can’t be mad when you’re dead.”

Bokuto sits up as well, turning to face Tsukishima with a cocked brow. His lips press into a thin line, but he doesn’t point out his contradiction a second time, and Tsukishima couldn’t have been more thankful for it.

“You know that it was just like—“  
“There was nothing behind it, I know.”  
“You were kinda freakin o—“  
“I know.”  
“Can you, uh, not interrupt—“  
“No.”

Bokuto rolls his eyes only to snort a laugh and smack Tsukishima on the arm. All jokes aside, Tsukishima could be at least a little glad that Bokuto was helping him come to terms with the fact that Kuroo wasn’t going to be coming back any time soon. Still, Tsukishima couldn’t help but feel just a little bad that he couldn’t do the same for him.

“Well. I think I’m gonna take you up on your shower offer.”  
“I didn’t offer you my shower.”  
“Can I use it?”  
“Yeah. You reek.”  
“You’re such a brat sometimes.”  
“Actually, you can’t use my shower.”

With a huff, Bokuto heaves himself up onto his feet and Tsukishima follows suit after making sure that his laptop was still functional and that the sound was on in case it decided to ping.

“Can I borrow some clothes?”  
“You’re too fat to fit in my clothes.”  
“Why can’t you be nice to me?”  
“I’ll go dig up some of my brother’s old clothes.”  
“That’s more like it.”

The only real back and forth that Tsukishima could remember having with anyone but himself in the past few months was with his brother in regards to when he would get around to deleting the news clip from the DVR. Social interaction wasn’t quite as draining as he remembered it to be, but at the same time, Bokuto always had a knack for cheering people up—though Tsukishima thought that it was a shame that Bokuto couldn’t do it for himself.

* * *

_[7/30/16, 05:33:59 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Remember when you asked me out?_  
 _[7/25/16, 05:34:04 AM] Tsukishima Kei: You and Bokuto did that horrible barbershop quartet rendition of “The Longest Time.”_  
 _[7/25/16, 05:34:08 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Or, you tried to. Since Akaashi and Kenma wouldn’t be a part of it and you guys couldn’t find a third and fourth person._  
 _[7/25/16, 05:34:14 AM] Tsukishima Kei: It was awful. I don’t know how you two thought that you could pull it off to begin with, much less with two people doing the work of four. I swear, both of you lose at least fifty IQ points when you’re together._  
 _[7/25/16, 05:34:23 AM] Tsukishima Kei: What was even worse was that you guys thought it was some sort of musical masterpiece, and Bokuto wouldn’t stop humming it to himself for months. Actually, I don’t think he ever stopped humming it while you were still here._  
 _[7/25/16, 05:34:29 AM] Tsukishima Kei: He was humming it at your funeral, you know. It was kind of sad, but he was humming it._  
 _[7/25/16, 05:34:33 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But since then, I don’t think I’ve heard him hum it once._  
 _[7/25/16, 05:34:36 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I think he forgot how it goes._  
 _[7/25/16, 05:34:39 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Maybe it’s for the best._  
 _[7/25/16, 05:34:42 AM] Tsukishima Kei: It started getting on my nerves a long time ago._  
 _[7/25/16, 05:34:46 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Still, I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t miss it._

_[7/25/16, 06:15:22 AM] Tsukishima Kei: He misses you a lot, Kuroo._  
_[7/25/16, 06:15:29 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I think he misses you more than I do._  
_[7/25/16, 06:15:35 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I also think that he’s waiting for you to wake up so you can remind him how the song goes._

* * *

It only took half an hour of insisting and a homemade breakfast to convince Bokuto to let Tsukishima walk him to the train station. As degrading as it was to practically get on his knees to beg someone that he’d looked up to so much in high school to let him walk with him, Tsukishima swallowed his pride anyways. Bokuto seemed reluctant, and he mumbled something about not wanting him to walk home on his own, but a plate of bacon and a promise to do his laundry shut him up well enough.

With the amount of food that Bokuto seemed to be able to stuff into his face, Tsukishima was surprised that his brother’s shirt that he lent hung loose around Bokuto’s biceps. Maybe he was on the upswing with his health. Tsukishima hoped that was the case. Sunken in eyes, dark circles and thin arms weren’t a good look on Bokuto. 

At least he could tell Kuroo when he got home that he tried to help Bokuto get up onto his feet, no matter how much Bokuto plastered on a happy face and strained his voice to sound cheery. 

\--

Upon arriving at the station, Tsukishima overhears Bokuto buy his ticket, and it wasn’t towards where he lived—or where he thought that he might live. He never visited Bokuto other than when he went to see Kuroo at school. But the station he bought a ticket for wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity of Fukurodani. It took a moment to realize that he bought a ticket for where Kuroo’s mother told him where her son’s grave was when she showed up unannounced at his house at eleven o’clock at night. 

“Go home, Bokuto.”

Bokuto glances over his shoulder at Tsukishima, blinking in confusion for a moment. He laughs inwardly once he processes what Tsukishima had said, just to shrug and shuffle over to where Tsukishima stood. 

“I am going home.”  
“You’re not.”  
“I am, just after I see Kuroo.”  
“I figured.”

There wasn’t any point in trying to scold Bokuto and tell him to go home when he already made plans to go and sit with Kuroo for what would probably be for the rest of his morning and a good portion of his afternoon. 

“Do you want to come with me?”  
“No.”  
“You really should, Tsukki.”  
“No.”  
“Fine. I’ll get your brother’s clothes back to you the next time we hang.”  
“I’ll do the same with yours.”  
“Sweet.”

Bokuto takes half a step away before Tsukishima clears his throat to get his attention again. He felt sick to his stomach, repeating the same words to Bokuto as he did to Kuroo before he left, but Tsukishima knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if he didn’t—and he had enough trouble getting sleep to begin with. 

“Text me when you get home.”  
“Alright. I promise I’ll get home safe, mom.”

The words were too familiar for his liking, but Tsukishima grits his teeth and nods regardless. He’d take what he could get, and he hopes that Bokuto is better at keeping promises than Kuroo was.

“Don’t call me that.”  
“Fine, Tsukki.”  
“Bye.”  
“Later.”

* * *

_[7/26/16, 11:50:34 PM] Tsukishima Kei: When do you think is the appropriate time for me to move on?_  
 _[7/26/16, 11:50:38 PM] Tsukishima Kei: My dad told me that I should because its “what he [you] would have wanted.”_  
 _[7/26/16, 11:50:43 PM] Tsukishima Kei: But I know that if I was the one that died, I’d be a little bitter if you moved on and found someone else._  
 _[7/26/16, 11:50:48 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Not that moving on means I have to find someone else._  
 _[7/26/16, 11:50:50 PM] Tsukishima Kei: But, what do you think?_  
 _[7/26/16, 11:50:54 PM] Tsukishima Kei: How much longer should I give you to keep your promise? And if you don’t, how long am I allowed to be stuck on you before I go off the deep end?_  
 _[7/26/16, 11:50:59 PM] Tsukishima Kei: How long do you think it’ll be until I can even look at another person without feeling like the worst boyfriend in the world?_  
 _[7/26/16, 11:51:06 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Because I’ll wait as long as you want/need me to, Kuroo. I really will. Just let me know._

* * *

“Tsukishima.”

His name was the absolute last thing that Tsukishima wanted to hear when his house was in sight and Tsukishima already made plans to spend the rest of the day lying in bed, waiting for his computer to ping while mulling over the metric ton of information that Bokuto had dropped onto his shoulders.

There was no way to ignore the person calling his name, though, and Tsukishima huffs as he picks his head up. Before he catches sight of who was trying to get his attention, he sees an unfamiliar car parked in his driveway. It was an old, beaten up car and Tsukishima found it hard to believe that it might belong to the person standing just a few yards ahead of him. 

“What?”

Akaashi Keiji was another face gone unseen since Kuroo’s wake, and even then, he only caught glimpses of him as he slung an arm around Bokuto and tried to soothe him when he was better off saving his breath. He hated to say that Bokuto was a lost cause, but the heavy bags under Akaashi’s eyes only seemed to confirm that nothing was pulling Bokuto out of his slump.

“Is Bokuto here? He texted me this morning that he was at your house.”  
“He left. I just dropped him off at the train station.”  
“Great.”  
“Sorry.”  
“It’s fine. I should have known.”

While he woke up to see Bokuto fiddling with his computer, Tsukishima would have guessed that Bokuto spent at least a little bit of time trying to catch some sleep. Apparently he spent just as much time pestering Akaashi as he did touching things that didn’t belong to him. It was unsettling that someone he hardly knew had managed to track down where he lived, and Tsukishima doesn’t ask how. It probably just took a quick search on the Internet of his last name to find his address. Still, it was a bit sad that Akaashi had to get a little savvy to try and track down someone one year his senior. 

“Did he go to see Kuroo?”  
“His grave, yes.”

The whole spiel with people equating a grave with his boyfriend’s once living, breathing body was starting to get a little annoying.

“Ah, alright. Well, thanks.”  
“No problem.”  
“While I’m here, we should get caught up, Tsukishima.”

If it was another pity conversation that someone wanted to have with him, Tsukishima wasn’t interested. He’d had enough pity looks, words, hugs and kisses in the past few months to last him an entire lifetime—which, as it turned out, may not be as long as he thought. 

But Akaashi never seemed like the type to do things out of pity and politeness. If anything, Akaashi looked like he could use more sleep than he could use small talk with someone he barely knew. Their conversations during training camps were short, civil, and less than interesting. There wasn’t much to get caught up on when there wasn’t anywhere for them pick up from.

“Did you drive here?”  
“Yes.”  
“Just to look for Bokuto?”  
“Would it be okay to take this conversation elsewhere? I’m a little tired of standing.”

Tsukishima couldn’t blame him. The poor guy had been running around his neighborhood looking for Bokuto the entire time that he was at the train station. 

“Why are you following him around?”

If Akaashi wanted to go sit down somewhere, then he would have to sate at least some of his curiosity first. The look of exasperation on Akaashi’s face said that he wasn’t in the mood to prove himself worthy of anyone’s time, but at the same time, he looked too exhausted to argue.

“Don’t you think that he needs someone to do that?”  
“What are you, married?”  
“No. We broke up a month ago. Maybe more.”  
“I didn’t know you were together to begin with.”  
“I’d love to tell you the details, but I’d love a cup of coffee more.”  
“Right.”

Tsukishima clenches his jaw tight, immediately thinking back to the kiss shared the night before. If he didn’t feel guilty before about kissing Bokuto, he was definitely starting to feel guilty now. His feet drag on the sidewalk as he heads up his driveway, but a hand grabbing his wrist stops him, and Tsukishima knits his brows together as he looks back at Akaashi.

“Let me buy you a real cup of coffee. You don’t have to brew me anything.”

If it weren’t for the guilt sitting heavily in the pit of his stomach, Tsukishima would have said no. He would have shoved Akaashi aside, he would have told him that he was too tired and that his head hurt too much for some coffee date with someone he hardly knew, but the guilt kept him grounded, and Tsukishima grumbles under his breath in defeat.

“Alright.”  
“Thank you.”

As he turns on his heel, Tsukishima swallows thickly to try and think of something that may be more interesting than sitting at a café just to avoid eye contact and tip toe around the subject of ex-lovers.

“I can get a volleyball, if you want to toss it around after.”

It was the first time that Tsukishima had ever been the one to suggest a game of volleyball, but it was a common ground that he had with Akaashi aside from people they have kissed and people they have lost. He wanted to try and ease the guilt off of his chest.

“No thank you.” Akashi replies simply, and Tsukishima cocks his head to the side in question. If he had asked anyone else he met at training camp if they wanted to toss around a volleyball, they would have taken him up on his offer in a heartbeat—even if it was hard to do with just two people. “Maybe another time. I’m too tired right now to play.”

That was a feeling Tsukishima was all too familiar with. 

“I understand.” Conversation had taken a turn for awkward, and he hadn’t been speaking to Akashi for more than ten minutes. 

“Lead the way.”

* * *

_[7/29/16, 12:20:40 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how much I wish I was the one that died instead of you._  
 _[7/29/16, 12:20:44 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Not because I want to die or anything. I don’t._  
 _[7/29/16, 12:20:48 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But I can’t stop thinking about how much more you deserved._  
 _[7/29/16, 12:20:53 AM] Tsukishima Kei: People always liked you more than they liked me. You were always better than me at volleyball. And I mean, you were kinda stupid, but I know for a fact that you would have been smarter than me if you’d stuck your nose in a book every now and again._  
 _[7/29/16, 12:20:57 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I’m just saying, you had more to live for than I ever did, or ever will._  
 _[7/29/16, 12:21:03 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I know that thinking about it and wishing that we could switch places won’t do either of us any good, but I can’t help it._  
 _[7/29/16, 12:21:09 AM] Tsukishima Kei: My school counselor would call this bargaining and say it’s healthy and just another stage of grief._  
 _[7/29/16, 12:21:14 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But I can’t find a single thing healthy about this._

* * *

“You don’t strike me as the type to drink black coffee.”

Akaashi breaks the silence that spanned the entire walk from Tsukishima’s driveway to the coffee shop. He never was the most talkative person in the world, but Tsukishima couldn’t quite remember him being this quiet. It had to be out of exhaustion. If Akaashi were disinterested, he would have left the second that he found out that Bokuto had already come and gone.

“Why not?”  
“You never drank it at camp.”

The taste of coffee was one that Tsukishima had grown accustomed to over the past two years. Kuroo would always insist that Tsukishima take him to the café just down the street from Karasuno, and a good majority of their dates were spent sitting and talking while Kuroo sipped at black coffee while Tsukishima idly stirred a drink that may as well have just been milk and sugar. It was the topic of many teases from Kuroo, who would poke fun at him for having such childish taste for someone his size. Tsukishima wouldn’t dare admit that his drink of choice was strawberry milk.

Kuroo would also say that he liked his coffee bitter because it reminded him of Tsukishima, and that always earned Kuroo a kick to the shin under the table. While he never liked the taste of coffee, it was what most of Kuroo’s kisses tasted like, and he learned to like it, just as he learned to miss it.

As it turned out, Tsukishima didn’t miss or like black coffee quite enough to drink on his own accord. The cup set in front of him went untouched while Akaashi took the occasional sip from his own while they sat across one another towards the back of the café. 

“Can we talk about anything but me? I’m a little sick of talking about myself.”  
“How come?”  
“Your husband isn’t exactly the best at staying out of anyone’s business.”

Akaashi sighs, but he doesn’t correct Tsukishima about his relationship status. 

“It’s not selfish to talk about yourself, you know.”

“I do. I just said I’m sick of it.” Tsukishima snaps, immediately regretting his tone of voice when he sees the blank stare on Akaashi’s face. For a second he’s quiet, and Tsukishima grits his teeth. “I’m sorry.” 

“Do you need to be somewhere?”  
“No.”  
“So you’re not in a hurry.”  
“No.”  
“Were you going to go home to talk to Kuroo?”

As he clenches his jaw, Tsukishima shifts uncomfortably in his seat. His body language was all the response that Akaashi needed to know that his assumption was right.

“Bokuto messaged me this morning—“  
“I would have never guessed.”

The day that Bokuto would learn to keep his big mouth shut would be the day that hell froze over, or the day that Kuroo would wake up and his computer would ping for the first time in months. The former seemed more likely at this point.

“It’s not weird for me to talk to him sometimes.”  
“I didn’t say it was.”

Another silence falls, and Tsukishima sinks in his seat as he stares across the table at Akaashi. He didn’t seem uncomfortable or awkward from the silence at all. Maybe some silence would do Akaashi some good if he was constantly with Bokuto to deal with his temper tantrums and mood swings. 

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be tracking down Bokuto?”  
“No, he’s going to be there for a few more hours. I trust him enough to keep himself safe.”  
“And you’re okay with that?”  
“I can’t make him stop.”  
“He looks like shit.”  
“I’m aware.”  
“You could afford to sound a little more concerned.”  
“He’s doing a lot better. I’m happy with the progress he’s made.”

Akaashi looked far from happy, but at the same time, he didn’t look as broken as Bokuto, and he lacked the look in his eyes that Tsukishima saw in himself with every passing glance in a mirror. 

“You haven’t talked about yourself.” Tsukishima comments pointedly, and Akaashi shrugs. 

“There’s nothing to say.”  
“I find that hard to believe.”  
“I’ve been fine. I was never that close to Kuroo, and I’ve been too busy taking care of Bokuto to find time to be upset. This is the first time I’ve had the chance to sit down and have a cup of coffee in weeks.”

That was a lie, and Tsukishima kenw it. Akaashi couldn’t say that he and Kuroo weren’t close when Tsukishima could vividly remember the two of them talking and spending time together even without Bokuto during training camp. The way that Akaashi said it didn’t make it sound any more convincing. 

“Aren’t you in school.”  
“Yes.”  
“And you’re still chasing Bokuto around?”  
“It’s easier than you’d think.”  
“I doubt it.”  
“I got a part time job, a car, and I come home every weekend to make sure that Bokuto is getting better, and he is.”  
“That sounds like a hassle.”  
“You would do the same for Kuroo if Bokuto were the one that died, wouldn’t you?”

Tsukishima flinches at the thought alone. He couldn’t imagine Kuroo upset or mourning the loss of a friend, but if it would be anything like the way that Bokuto shook and cried in the middle of the night, then Akaashi was right. He would do the same exact thing for Kuroo—not that death was anything to make hypotheticals about.

“Doesn’t matter. He’s dead.”  
“I’ll take that as a yes.”  
“What’s the point of asking if you already knew the answer?”  
“I wanted to see if you’d talk about yourself some more.”  
“I will if you do.”  
“Fair enough. What do you want to know?”

He hadn’t expected Akaashi to be so agreeable, and for a moment Tsukishima gnaws on the insides of his cheeks. Akaashi remains patient, and Tsukishima didn’t think that silence could ever be so annoying.

“What happened with you and Bokuto?”  
“We were in a long distance relationship, and he broke up with me about two weeks after Kuroo’s wake.”  
“Why?”  
“I think you already know the answer to that.”

For someone that had been broken up with, Akaashi didn’t seem phased by the thought of it. Tsukishima wasn’t sure if it was because of sheer apathy or if Akaashi cared too much to be hurt.

“I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t be. We’re on good terms.”  
“If he’s getting better, how much of a pain was he before?”  
“You saw him at the wake, didn’t you?”  
“Yeah.”  
“He was more or less the same afterwards. I stayed with him for a few days, but I had to go back to school, and he did too. He broke up with me over the phone the same day he dropped out.”  
“Is that it?”  
“Were you expecting some sort of sob story?”  
“To be honest, yeah, I was.”  
“Would it make it sadder if I told you that he called me drunk when he broke up with me?”  
“A little.”  
“He sobered up, and he still said that he wanted to break up with me.”  
“That sounds more like a sob story.”

Akaashi slumps against his seat, staring at the ceiling for a moment as Tsukishima fills the gap in conversation with a slow sip of lukewarm coffee. It tasted awful, but it was the closest thing that he could get to Kuroo’s kisses. Even Bokuto’s kisses weren’t as close.

Now that he thought about it, Akaashi had the right to know about that pathetic excuse for a kiss. 

“He hasn’t been sleeping much.”  
“I could tell. You haven’t either.”  
“I don’t need to sleep as much as he does.”  
“Yeah, because that sounds healthy.”  
“I would rather stay awake worrying about Bokuto than sit alone in my room and think about Kuroo.”

Whether that was a sly dig or some bitter honesty, Tsukishima wasn’t sure, but by the way that Akaashi kept his head tipped back and avoided eye contact made it sound like a despondent combination of both.

“That doesn’t sound healthy eith—“  
“I said I was fine before. I meant it. Of course it hurt when I found out what happened. The trick is, Tsukishima, it stops hurting when you start investing in other relationships.”

Tsukishima stills, and his nails dig into the Styrofoam cup in his hand. The last thing he needed was another person lecturing him on how to get better. He wouldn’t snap at Akaashi for it. His frustrations were better spent in ranting messages to Kuroo or fists slamming against pillows.

“Are you just waiting for Bokuto to come around to pick up where you guys left off?” It sounded terrible and romantic at the same time, and for a second, Tsukishima felt jealous of Bokuto for having someone as patient (and alive) as Akaashi waiting for him.

“Yes.”  
“Do you think he’s going to? Come around, I mean.”  
“Of course.”  
“How come?”

“Because he always does. He always bounces back. This time it’s just taking him a little longer than usual.” Akaashi drops his chin back down to look at Tsukishima, and Tsukishima furrows his brows in response. “It’s the same faith you have in Kuroo that he’ll message you back one day.” His fingers twitch against the side of his cup, and Tsukishima narrows his eyes even though he knew that Akaashi wasn’t trying to make fun of him. Akaashi was making more sense than anyone he’d tried to speak to in the past few months, and recognizing it was proving to be harder than he expected. “I love him. And I know he loves me. So, he’ll come back one day. Just like I’m sure Kuroo will come back to you.”

“He’s not going t—“  
“He is.”  
“Whatever.”  
“It’s your turn to talk about yourself, Tsukishima.”  
“I don’t want to.”  
“Just tell me what you were going to go home and say to Kuroo.”  
“I can’t.”  
“Try.”  
“Fine.”

* * *

_[7/30/16, 06:22:43 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I’ve forgotten so much about you that it’s hard to keep track of what I’ve forgotten and what I remember._  
 _[7/30/16, 06:22:46 PM] Tsukishima Kei: That doesn’t even make sense. But, you get what I mean._  
 _[7/30/16, 06:22:54 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Some days I wake up and you’re not the first thing on my mind, and I feel so, so bad. I don’t want to stop mourning you. I hate being upset, but I hate not being upset more._  
 _[7/30/16, 06:22:59 PM] Tsukishima Kei: It’s been so fucking long, Kuroo. No one talks about you anymore. Sometimes I wake up and I think that you were never here and that you were just some figment of my imagination._  
 _[7/30/16, 06:23:04 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Please wake up so I know that I didn’t make you up inside my head._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not happy with this chapter at all and i got so frustrated from looking at it i thought i was going to cry (lmfao,,) so i cut out the end of the chapter so i can work on it for chap. 6 since its a pretty long chapter without.. the fic might end up running longer than the planned 8 chapters @__@
> 
> i hope you guys liked reading this more than i liked writing it! ahah :v
> 
> heres [the song kuroo asked tsuki out with](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a_XgQhMPeEQ) and [the poem tsuki's referring to in the last message](http://www.neuroticpoets.com/plath/poem/madgirl/)
> 
> remember to follow my [writing blog](http://bbarfs.tumblr.com/) if you'd like! i promise i'm friendly!
> 
> i also posted an [alternate kuroo lives version](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3397250) of this fic if you guys haven't checked it out! there it is! :-)
> 
> thanks for reading! smooches ya :*


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [“so glide away on soapy heels / and promise not to promise anymore / and if you come around again / then i will take the chain from off the door”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fu2gxZDquzA)   
> 

Tsukishima never liked to talk.

Teasing, he was good at. He was good at snark and sarcasm, being rude and passive aggressive was his forte, but speaking his mind without gritting his teeth and grumbling ‘Nevermind,’ under his breath was nothing short of impossible. With Kuroo, it was easy. Kuroo would push and shove until he finally spoke, and no matter how stupid he thought that he sounded, Kuroo would smile and nod in understanding or elaborate and carry the conversation when necessary. It was what made dating Kuroo enjoyable instead of tolerable, and it was what made living without Kuroo agonizing.

Akaashi’s request for him to finally speak his mind drew a blank. Since Kuroo’s wake, the thoughts never stopped. When Bokuto came, floodgates of pain let loose, and Tsukishima drowned in thoughts of marriage, suicide, college, and kisses that tasted like salt water. 

But now that he was looking Akaashi in the eye, Tsukishima could barely even think of his own name.

“Take your time.” Akaashi breaks the silence, and it wasn’t until then that Tsukishima realizes that said silence existed to begin with.

Another minute passes where not another word went spoken. Akaashi didn’t look impatient. He sat and sipped at his drink while waiting for Tsukishima to say anything other than the start of syllables that he managed to squeak every now and again when he thought that he knew what to say, only to be interrupted by his own self doubt.

Kuroo would have gotten the words out of him without a problem. Akaashi could only sit and stare, and as unreasonable and unfair as it was, Tsukishima almost resented Akaashi for it.

“He kissed me.” Tsukishima finally speaks up, wanting to get the kiss off of his chest first. A part of him wanted Akaashi to storm off in a fit of anger upon finding out—even though that was unlike him to do.

“… Kuroo?”  
“No, Bokuto.”  
“I know.”

Apparently there wasn’t a single thing that Bokuto _didn’t_ relay to Akaashi. It was hard to be convinced that the two had actually broken up, but at the same time, it was equally as hard to imagine Bokuto maintaining a healthy relationship in his current state.

“You’re not mad?”  
“Why would I be mad?”  
“You’re serious.”  
“We aren’t together, and I’m sure he had his reasons.”  
“You don’t have to be so passive.”  
“Am I?”  
“I wouldn’t have said anything if you weren’t.”  
“I don’t notice anymore, I guess.”

To think that Akaashi was exhausted to a point where he wasn’t even self-aware struck a nerve with Tsukishima. For all he knew, Akaashi shouldered the burden of both his own and Bokuto’s grief. 

“I was going to tell Kuroo.”  
“Do you think he’d get mad?”  
“He’s d—“  
“Humor me.”  
“Yeah, I do.”

Tsukishima looks down at his cup of coffee—which was even grosser at room temperature than it was when it was hot. Kuroo never discriminated when it came to coffee, though, so he wouldn’t throw it away just yet.

“I don’t.” The response irritated Tsukishima more than it should have. Tsukishima knits his brows together before looking up at Akaashi, who didn’t so much as blink. “I’m sure it made you feel better when it happened, so I think he would be glad that you felt better.”

The kiss wasn’t soothing, but it helped him breathe and fall asleep normally. Tsukishima quickly realizes that was the exact reason why Bokuto kissed him to begin with. He wouldn’t be surprised if Bokuto were sitting at Kuroo’s grave now, talking and bragging about how he _’made four-eyes feel better.’_

“You have a point.”  
“Just think it over some.”  
“I’d rather not.”  
“Okay. Change of topic, then?”

Tsukishima grits his teeth, and he slides down in his seat to show that he wasn’t in the mood to talk, but Akaashi didn’t look like he was going to budge any time soon. 

“I don’t know what to say.” Tsukishima admits, sounding less sheepish and more irritated that he had to sit and make conversation when he could have been better spending his time in his room by himself. At least there he would actually be talking to someone—if he considered a one-sided conversation as talking to someone. With Akaashi, no one was talking. Tsukishima nearly snorts a laugh, finding some amusement in the fact that that Akaashi was at least talking more than Kuroo for months now. 

“You can tell me what Bokuto told you. You were going to go home and just tell Kuroo, weren’t you?” Tsukishima didn’t think that he would ever understand how Akaashi could phrase questions like that without sounding condescending. 

“Mm.”  
“So, you can tell me.”  
“Bokuto probably told you already.”

For a split second, Tsukishima swears that he caught a glimpse of a small smile, or maybe just the tiniest twitch at the corners of Akaashi’s lips, but it was gone by the time he processed it.

“If that’s the case, you won’t be telling me anything new. So there’s nothing to worry about.”

With a deep inhale, Tsukishima pushes his glasses to the top of his head and rubs his face tiredly. The last thing he wanted to do was speak, but the sooner he got it over with, the sooner he could get home. His glasses fall back to his nose when his hands drop back down to the table, and Tsukishima clears his throat to actually speak with more than just a one word answer.

“He showed up at my house, dragged me outside, asked me to take him to the intersection where Kuroo got turned into roadkill. We sat. We talked. He told me that he dropped out of college to become a professional sitter/nothing doer, and he also said that sometimes he blames me fo—“  
“I’m sorry.”

An apology wasn’t necessary, especially one from Akaashi. But from the look on his face, not only did Akaashi mean it, but he knew Bokuto thought that beforehand. 

“It’s fine.”  
“He gets stuck on things a lot.”  
“I don’t blame him.”  
“And sometimes he forgets things he says. Or he doesn’t word things well.”  
“No, I know what he meant.”  
“I’m sorry.”

Tsukishima swears that if Akaashi apologies one more time, he was going to end up tossing his drink at his face. The only thing that would stopped him was the fact that his coffee wasn’t scalding and it wouldn’t be nearly as dramatic or painful as he imagined it to be in his head.

“If it makes him feel better to blame me, so be it.”  
“He doesn’t blame you.”  
“Sure.”  
“I promise.”  
“Don’t.”  
“Don’t what?”  
“Don’t promise.”

Akaashi looks at Tsukishima with a blank stare, Tsukishima returns it with one of the same.

“Do you want me to keep going?”  
“Yes.”

Just the act of recalling how he’d spent the day with Bokuto was stressful enough as is, and now Tsukishima felt weary about saying anything. The last thing he wanted was for Akaashi to apologize on behalf of Bokuto when neither of them had any reason to find repentance in a high schooler with a dead boyfriend and tired eyes.

“Like I was saying. We sat around. We did a lot of sitting. I’m guessing you want to know the details of that, too. We got to the curb, and sat down—slowly, so we wouldn’t hurt our asses—“  
“I get it.”

Apparently it had been longer than Tsukishima had thought since he tried to pull a joke or tried to be funny, and from Akaashi’s expression, his attempt wasn’t all that great. 

Then again, Akaashi was hard to read to begin with. He wasn’t like Kuroo and Bokuto. He didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, and while Tsukishima would have liked to say that Akaashi was more like him, that wasn’t the case. He wished that he could be a little more like Akaashi; then he wouldn’t feel like the past two months were completely wasted. 

“He dicked on me for not having gone to Kuroo’s grave yet, and told me that Kuroo wanted to marry me. Then we went inside.”

Now that he had gotten the entire story out, it felt better than expected. Akaashi wasn’t judging him—and if he were, he wasn’t letting it come through on his face at all. The thoughtful nod made it hard to believe that he was hiding anything. 

“That’s pretty heavy stuff.”  
“Yeah.”  
“I’m s—“  
“Don’t.”

Up until this point Tsukishima felt as though Akaashi related to him better than Bokuto, Yamaguchi or his parents. But it wasn’t until now that the gravity of what Tsukishima lost hit Akaashi, and Tsukishima almost wanted to retract everything he said. While they both lost significant others, Akaashi would at least be able to fall in love again, get married, and wake up next to Bokuto to exchange lazy morning kisses and breathy exhales of ‘I love you’s. Tsukishima could only wake up to an empty bed, an overheated laptop, and a soft ‘I miss you’ muttered under his breath. 

It was sad that Bokuto briefly cauterized sore wounds with alcohol, and Akaashi had to endure ethanol flavored kisses until he healed enough to cope without being inebriated. Everything about both their situations were sad, but aside from that, they weren’t comparable in the slightest. 

“You said that you haven’t gone to visit his grave.” Akaashi made it painfully obvious that he was avoiding the subject of marriage, and Tsukishima couldn’t blame him. That was his burden to carry and heartache to tend to with text on a screen. 

“I haven’t.”  
“I think you should.”  
“I’m going to, I just haven’t gotten around to it.”  
“Come with me and Bokuto sometime.”  
“You go with him?”  
“Occasionally. Sometimes I don’t have a choice.”

Tsukishima briefly wonders if Bokuto intentionally left out the fact that he _wasn’t_ sitting alone in front of Kuroo’s grave, and that he did have company—living, breathing company. The image of Akaashi gently tugging at the back of Bokuto’s shirt to try and get him to go home was cringe worthy.

“I think you should go so that it’ll sink in that he’s gone.” Akaashi was really starting to push his luck with what he could get away with saying. “I know it’s hard.” Of course he does. Tsukishima rolls his eyes, biting his tongue instead of pointing out the fact that it doesn’t take a genius or a visit to a heap of dirt to know that it was hard to confront death. “But, Tsukishima—“ 

With a dry swallow, Tsukishima stares at Akaashi, who finally mustered something up to return the stare. He knew exactly what was going to come out of Akaahi’s mouth next, but he didn’t want to hear it. If he were six, he would cover his ears and throw a temper tantrum until Akaashi left him alone. But, despite having reverted to his six-year-old self in regards to how often tears spilled, Tsukishima would rather spare himself the humility.

“I don’t think he’s coming back.”

_Obviously._

“It happened, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

To think that this was the same person that told him earlier that Kuroo would come back to him was absolutely astounding. Tsukishima quickly realizes that Akaashi wasn’t talking about that happening any time in the near future. He was talking sixty, seventy—however many years he would live—ahead. 

Tsukishima’s chest hurt, and he looks down at the table, as if he could find something smart or witty to say written on the polished wood.

“I just need some time.” The words were quiet, nearly whispered to the air between him and Akaashi. The air says nothing back, though. Just like Kuroo.

“I know.”  
“You have friends at Karasuno, don’t you?”

Yamaguchi could count as a friend. The rest of the volleyball team, on the other hand, he couldn’t speak for. His lips thin, and Tsukishima nods stiffly. 

“Talk to them. Investing yourself in other relationships helps.” Akaashi wasn’t exactly the picture perfect example of happiness, but if he was functioning, talking to people, and attending school, he was doing better than Tsukishima could say for himself or Bokuto. “I promise.”

Tsukishima balls his hands into fists at his sides, but he doesn’t stop Akaashi from making that promise. He didn’t want to admit it, but he had a feeling that Akaashi would keep that promise, and all Tsukishima could ask for was just one promise to be kept.

* * *

_[8/01/16, 10:33:54 PM] Tsukishima Kei: This is the last time I’m going to message you. I’ll leave you alone._  
 _[8/01/16, 10:33:59 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Bye, Kuroo. At least for now._  
 _[8/01/16, 10:34:03 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I love you._

* * *

Cutting what was left of Kuroo out of his life proved to be exhausting. Nearly two months were spent sending Kuroo message after message, waiting for a ping, and earning deafening silence in return. To think that he would rather test to see if Kuroo would uphold his promise before even considering Akaashi’s was sad, but it felt wrong to give up on Kuroo like he meant nothing to him. It wasn’t fair for Kuroo to be left alone for reasons that couldn’t be helped. Kuroo didn’t choose for his heart to stop beating or that his lungs to stop filling with air. There was nothing Kuroo could do about the fact that there weren’t any more ‘I love you’s to share. Kuroo probably wanted to say it. He just couldn’t. It would probably be hard to spout declarations of love when six feet of dirt kept him hidden from the world. He would compare it to buried treasure, but there was nothing valuable, beautiful, or desirable about the unrecognizable corpse of someone he knew and was now forgetting.

Tsukishima hid away any traces of Kuroo ranging from socks that he left behind at after spending the night, to photographs on the internet that mostly consisted of Kuroo grinning and Tsukishima covering his face or swatting at the camera. Forgotten articles of clothing were tucked into a box and kicked under his bed, pictures were put into a folder that he’d put into another folder and then another, and so on until he lost count of how far he would have to dig before he would get to see Kuroo again. There was no way that he could take Akaashi’s advice when Kuroo still loomed over his shoulder whispering ‘I miss you,’ ‘I still love you,’ ‘I need you,’ and ‘I’m right here.’ 

The words went away one by one as Tsukishima hid away forlorn memories, but with each word that was lost, the ache in his chest only grew worse. Without Kuroo’s belongings cluttering the back of his closet and over his desk, his room looked larger than he remembered it to be before Kuroo came into his life. He wasn’t sure if it was because Kuroo made a mess of his room that Tsukishima hadn’t bothered to clean up in months, or if it was because his room felt just as empty as he did. Leaving what remained of Kuroo underneath his bed where monsters supposedly lurked was terrifying, but at the same time, it was fitting. Only those monsters weren’t real, and while Kuroo wasn’t real either, Kuroo kept him up at night longer than any folklore or grim fairytale ever could

His cheeks were wet by the time that the last box of belongings was hidden away, and Tsukishima doesn’t bother to wipe them away.

He had gotten rid of everything Kuroo left behind, but he couldn’t bring himself to wipe the tears that Kuroo so graciously gave.

* * *

_[8/05/16, 05:11:32 AM] Tsukishima Kei: This message has been removed._  
 _[8/05/16, 05:11:38 AM] Tsukishima Kei: This message has been removed._  
 _[8/05/16, 05:11:45 AM] Tsukishima Kei: This message has been removed._  
 _[8/05/16, 05:11:48 AM] Tsukishima Kei: This message has been removed._

* * *

The only time that Tsukishima dedicated to Kuroo was when he would come home from school and watch the news clip three times over. It was never twice, and never four times. Tsukishima only allowed himself three loops before hauling himself upstairs to try and get on with his day.

It left him with too much free time than Tsukishima knew what to do with. He managed to catch up with school with decent grades, apply to colleges, occasionally attend volleyball practice (just to watch), and yet there were still hours left in the afternoon and evening where Tsukishima only had his own voice in his head to keep him company. 

Conversations with Yamaguchi became boring and uninteresting. They were never all that in depth to begin with, but now their ‘friendship’ consisted of sitting beside one another in class, eating lunch together in silence, and occasionally walking to school with one another. Tsukishima noticed that Yamaguchi spent more time with Kageyama and Hinata as of late, and it only made sense. They all actually played volleyball while Tsukishima followed the ball with his eyes as it rallied from one end of the court to another.

Yamaguchi never mentioned volleyball to him, and Yamaguchi never called him ‘Tsukki’ anymore. While he used to be irritated by how close Yamaguchi always stood or how cheery he could be, Tsukishima admittedly missed it. He had no clue how he could take Akaashi’s advice now that he didn’t have any relationships to invest in. He asked for space from friends and relatives, and space was what he got. Tsukishima just didn’t expect that he’d ever want that go away.

Akaashi and Bokuto’s suggestion to come visit Kuroo’s grave grew more tempting, but with every visit to the train station, Tsukishima could only stand by the ticket booth and stare at the timetable. Over the course of a week, Tsukishma became increasingly popular amongst the employees at the station. He never spoke with any of them. He only gave passing glances and the occasional glare, but he never a word. They would always anticipate his arrival at exactly five in the afternoon, and despite the hushed whispers exchanged between workers, no one had the courage to ask what he was doing or if he needed any help. 

Trains came every half an hour, and with every train that came, Tsukishima told himself that he would get on. With every train that left, Tsukishima told himself that he would get on the next. It ended with Tsukishima silently standing and staring for an hour, two hours, two and a half hours at a time before the sun fell and Tsukishima made his way home before sunset. 

With every walk home, Tsukishima wonders how long it would take before he could bring himself to cross the road after the sun went down and the sky melded with the asphalt. It was when the night sky blurred with the road that Tsukishima figures that heaven was closest to the earth. 

Tsukishima tells himself that one day, he would get on that train and see Kuroo, and that one day, he would cross the road after dark and squint hard enough at the night sky to see Kuroo grinning his stupid, stupid Cheshire cat grin. 

It was a ridiculous, cliché thought, but Tsukishima knew that if he could just catch a glimpse of that smile, he would stop blaming himself for everything that happened.

Tsukishima grit his teeth and fought back silent tears with every walk home. He missed Kuroo. He missed Yamaguchi. He missed volleyball, and he missed feeling anything other than alone.

* * *

_Release Date/Time: 4/19/2016 12:48 PM_  
 _Incident: Fatal Hit and Run_  
 _Report #: 12-082349_  
 _Date: Monday, 4/18/2016_  
 _Time: 11:53 PM_  
 _A 19-year-old male was walking through the south crosswalk against a red light. A dark colored, possibly black, 4 door SUV drove southbound through the intersection and struck the man launching him over 50 feet. The driver fled north off of Karasuno High School. The pedestrian suffered massive head trauma and internal injuries. He was pronounced dead at the scene. During the preliminary investigation, a PD traffic investigator estimated the vehicle speed at approximately 120 KPH. The driver has not yet been located and the case is still under investigation. The Police Department Traffic Unit is looking for additional witnesses._

* * *

After Kuroo came on the news the day following his death, Tsukishima wasn’t surprised when he was never mentioned again. Immediately following the segment recounting the accident, the newscaster covered a story regarding some political scandal that made Kuroo’s death seem trivial to people who didn’t know him. There was no update as to whether or not the person behind the wheel had been caught, and it was absolutely infuriating. Anyone who was heartless enough to drive home with a blood-splattered front bumper deserved to be televised and humiliated.

Early mornings were spent sitting at the intersection where Kuroo had been hit, ‘Tsukki’ ceased to exist, and Bokuto became less of a mentor and more of a charity case. 

It was there that Tsukishima learned to hate and resent the person that hit Kuroo, and it was also there that Tsukishima learned to humanize that same person. There was no denying that he was bitter and angry, but after a certain point, hating became exhausting. There was comfort to be found in wondering if the driver couldn’t sleep at night because of images of Kuroo’s eyes just seconds before impact. Or maybe the sound of tires skidding on asphalt, of bones cracking and snapping in a gruesome display of man vs. machine made their conscience too loud to even entertain the idea of sleep. 

At that corner, Tsukishima slowly forgave himself, and one day, he hoped that he could forgive the driver. Until then, he would take the burden he shouldered and put it on the bastard to carry for him as a punishment better suited for Atlas himself.

* * *

_[8/26/16, 10:49:04 PM] Tsukishima Kei: It was really nice seeing you today._  
 _[8/26/16, 10:49:08 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Even though you didn’t talk much._  
 _[8/26/16, 10:49:11 PM] Tsukishima Kei: You didn’t talk at all, actually._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !! sorry for the delay!! i've gotten a little lazy with writing, but i think i'm back on track!  
>  i hope you guys like this chapter..!
> 
> well thats the end of this chapter remember to kudos the fanfiction comment the fanfiction and bookmark if you wanna see fanfictions similar to this one :-)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [all that i know is i'm breathing now](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fORAPkfVV_A)   
> 

The last time that Tsukishima visited Tokyo, he went to Kuroo’s wake, and he swore to himself that—if he could help it—that it would be the last time that he would ever step foot in Tokyo. There was nothing there for him anymore. There was no one to see, no one to show him around, and no one to hold his hand and kiss him underneath city lights. Tokyo was where he met Kuroo, and Tokyo was where he got to know Kuroo at a training camp that he didn’t want anything to do with to begin with. Tsukishima never went to Tokyo to visit Kuroo’s parents or see his house, but the last time he went to Tokyo, he didn’t have any choice but to look Kuroo’s mother in the eye while she sobbed and clutched at the nicely-pressed shirt they put her son in, and Kuroo’s dad while he pried his wife away from the casket. It wasn’t the best first impression—if anything, it was the worst. That impression left the same taste in Tsukishima’s mouth that the air in Tokyo did. It tasted like bile.

Halfway to train ride to the city, Tsukishima realizes that he could remember that acidic taste better than how he could remember how any of Kuroo’s kisses tasted. He presses his face into his hands the rest of the way into the city to force the thought to the back of his mind. 

By the time he stepped off onto the station, the sun had already gone down, and the anxiety of walking around a city that he despised and barely knew settled in, but Tsukishima wouldn’t allow his pride to take a hit by buying a return ticket seconds upon arriving. At least the weather was nice. Late August’s blistering heat was much more forgiving at nightfall. The weather reminded Tsukishima of his first summer training camp spent in Tokyo. It reminded him of those days spent talking with Kuroo. Practicing volleyball with Kuroo. Falling in love with Kuroo.

Tsukishima reminds himself to breathe even though the air in Tokyo drowned him for reasons other than pollution and cigarette smoke that laced the atmosphere.

* * *

_Inhale._

Tsukishima pulls his headphones on, listening to his music to drown out the noise of passengers stepping off of the train. They all yelled and threw their arms around friends, family members, loved ones that were waiting for their arrival. There was no one waiting for Tsukishima other than a slab of marble.

 _Exhale._

Once he had exited the station, Tsukishima stares ahead to examine his surroundings. Where the station let off wasn’t nearly as claustrophobic as downtown Tokyo, and for that, he was thankful. Still, he lowers the volume of his music as he walks down the sidewalk for the sake of being able to hear any oncoming vehicles that may come out of nowhere to leave him dead. Tsukishima wanted to see Kuroo, but he didn’t want to see Kuroo badly enough to go chasing after him.

_Inhale._

From what Kuroo’s mother had told him, the graveyard where they buried Kuroo laid on the outskirts of Tokyo. With every step he took and block he passed, the sound of traffic and people grew quieter and the air became less bitter. Tsukishima could find it in himself to be appreciative. Kuroo would want to sleep somewhere quiet.

_And Exhale._

Tsukishima didn’t think that Tokyo could ever be silent, but while he stood staring at rows of gravestones, his music was the only sound to be heard. Despite the silence, Tsukishima didn’t feel as lonely as he imagined he would. As he shifted his weight between his feet, mustering up the courage to step off of the sidewalk and onto the grass, he felt more company at the graveyard than he did at school or at home with his laptop. 

It was no wonder that Bokuto came to see Kuroo’s grave so frequently, and Tsukishima felt bad for poking fun at him for it.

Morbid as it was, Tsukishima found it comforting to be in the company of dozens—no, hundreds of bodies whose souls are wherever Kuroo’s is now, getting sick of listening to him prattle on about how he was the _best_ volleyball player and that he had the _cutest_ boyfriend and that his best friend is just the _biggest_ dweeb. 

All comfort aside, the temptation to turn tail and scurry home was still there and as alluring as ever. 

He had come this far, though, and Tsukishima closes his eyes before pulling his headphones off and stepping over into the grass.

* * *

Finding a rock with Kuroo’s name etched onto it amongst hundreds of other rocks with names was just as difficult as it sounded. Tsukishima wasn’t bothered by it, though. Streetlamps were too far in the distance to be seen as anything other than specks, and the only other source of light came from small, useless flickers and flashes of fireflies.

Tsukishima reads each epitaph that he walked past by shining the light of his phone to illuminate the text. There was the occasional mourner, standing and murmuring words to each gravestone that Tsukishima couldn’t decipher. 

A few months ago, he would have scoffed in the face of someone making a fool out of themselves by stifling tears while talking to what looked like nothing. Now his chest ached in sympathy. 

His sympathy ran dry by the fourth lap around the graveyard, and Tsukishima curses under his breath, wondering if he had wasted his time roaming around and spending time with dead people that weren’t Kuroo. He had made it a point to keep his distance from the other living people for the sake of being polite, but he realizes that it left quite a few gravestones unchecked. He takes weary steps towards a pair sitting in front of a grave, unsure if he should step behind them or around the gravestone they were sitting in front of. The latter sounded the most reasonable and respectful. His best attempts at being quiet and going unnoticed weren’t enough, as it turned out, and Tsukishima tenses when one of the figures turn to look at him.

“Hey, Tsukki!”

Tsukishima flinches in response, and he stiffly turns his head to the source of the voice, half expecting a decomposed Kuroo to be sitting up with a huge grin plastered over his face. He had gone so long without hearing Kuroo, he forgot what he sounded like, but what he did know was that the voice that called his name wasn’t right.

“Don’t scare him, Bokuto.” The second person smacks Bokuto on the shoulder, who huffs and whines in retaliation. 

It was hard to tell in the dark, but Tsukishima didn’t have to see to know that it was Akaashi sitting on the ground beside Bokuto. He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised to see the two of them when Bokuto told him that he was a frequent visitor of Kuroo’s grave. A part of him was disappointed that he wouldn’t get any alone time with Kuroo, and another part was glad that he had living people to talk to so that he wouldn’t seem _too_ crazy.

“Come sit down, Tsukishima.” 

With Akaashi’s suggestion, Tsukishima nods despite knowing that his nod was going to go unseen when it was as dark out as it was. There was a drawstring bag situated between Bokuto and Akaashi, so he sits down on the other side of Bokuto. It was probably smart not to get in between the both of them, anyways.

“’Bout time you came to visit, Tsukki.” Bokuto chimes. His voice still had the same strain it did when they interacted months ago. 

“Yeah, I guess so.”  
“Y’know, actually, I have something for you.”

Tsukishima arches a brow, and he looks over at Bokuto wearily, watching as he grabs the bag between him and Akaashi. 

“This is totally overdue, but I told you I’d get these back to ya the next time we hung out.”

Bokuto drops the bag in front of Tsukishima, who stares at it for a moment before pulling it open and digging out its contents. He blinks as he pulls out his brother’s clothes—the same clothes that he loaned to Bokuto when he spent the night at his house. Tsukishima forgot that he gave his brother’s clothes out to begin with.

“Have you just been carrying this with you for the past few months in case you ran into me? I live in an entirely different prefecture you kn—“

“I’m not stupid! And no, I haven’t.” Bokuto replies all too defensively, and Tsukishima rolls his eyes. “I’ve only been bringing it with me when I come here.”

“Seems like a hassle.” 

Akaashi sighs, and Tsukishima could tell that he at one point said those exact words to Bokuto before.

“Not really. I mean—I knew I’d run into you here, and I didn’t want to keep your brother’s clothes. So, I thought it was just a matter of time until we met up. And I was right, so it worked! It’s better than me showin’ up at your place again, isn’t it?

There were so, so many teases that Tsukishima could have made from what Bokuto had said, but any words were lost the second that he opened his mouth. The fact that Bokuto had enough faith in him to show up was simultaneously endearing and idiotic. 

“Right. Thank you.” Tsukishima decides against risking trying to speak in words longer than one syllable long. He puts his brother’s clothes back into the bag for the time being, and he sets it between him and Bokuto. 

“Did you get to look at the gravestone?” Akaashi interjects before Bokuto could speak up again. Instead of answering, Tsukishima digs his phone back out, using its camera’s flash to see. It only said Kuroo’s name, the year he was born, and the year he died. There weren’t any flowery words or poems, and Tsukishima exhales audibly in relief. It was fitting for someone like Kuroo. There weren’t words eloquent enough or deserving of being written as the last thing that Kuroo would be remembered by.

At the foot of the gravestone, Tsukishima catches a glimpse of plastic wrapping paper reflecting the light of his phone. He flashes the light at it to see that there were bouquets of flowers strewn over the grass, if he could even call them bouquets—or flowers, for that matter. The flowers were all as dead as Kuroo, and Tsukishima furrows his brows. 

“Did you bring those?” 

Instead of stuffing his phone back into his pocket, he sets it face down on the ground so that they wouldn’t be sitting in complete darkness. 

“Me? No.” Bokuto shakes his head, and Tsukishima leans over to look at Akaashi, who shakes his head as well. “I think it’s his friend—the one with the funny hair… Kenma! Him.” 

Tsukishima blinks, realizing that he had forgotten entirely about Kenma since Kuroo died. He could vaguely remember seeing him at Kuroo’s wake, standing perfectly still and silent, but with wet cheeks and his eyes glued to the ground. It was easy to forget him when he was more focused on Bokuto’s wailing and Kuroo’s parents sobbing. 

“Oh.”  
“Yeah, we’ve only seen him here once. I guess he’s been showing up when I’m not around too.”

From the look of the flowers, Kenma hadn’t been to visit in at least a few weeks. Most of the bouquets only held withered stems. A few bouquets held dead, blackened flowers with dried petals that would turn to dust if they were moved from their place. Tsukishima figures that was probably the very reason why Bokuto hadn’t cleaned them up and off of the ground. Other than the mess of floral wraps and mesh, the area around Kuroo’s grave was spotless. There weren’t any weeds, and the gravestone shone as if it hadn’t been lying outside for months now. 

“Did you say anything to him?”  
“I mean, I asked him to stay to chit-chat some, but he just put down some flowers and left.” 

“Well, he wasn’t entirely silent.” Akaashi comments pointedly as he pulls out a few blades of grass from the ground. Tsukishima realizes that he had been doing the same out of nervousness. “He said something about how Kuroo always told him to be more social, and that he wasn’t in any position to deny him that now just because he’s dead.” 

Tsukishima couldn’t imagine Kenma being social at all with anyone other than his former teammates on Nekoma and Hinata. He expected Kenma to spend just as much time at Kuroo’s grave as Bokuto did. 

“He was kinda an asshole about it.” Bokuto gripes and leans back on his hands. “Like, he said that it was _disrespectful_ for me to be here! Can you believe that? He told me to get up and do whatever it was that Kuroo would have wanted me to do. I’m here trying to keep his friend some company, and he comes over all condescending-like and starts spewing this cliché bullshit—“

“He meant well.” Akaashi interrupts Bokuto before he could go on, and Tsukishima silently thanks him for that. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 

Tsukishima remains quiet as he stares at the gravestone in front of them. His eyes trace Kuroo’s name as he mulls over his thoughts and processes Bokuto’s paraphrasing. 

“I think that he’s right, though.” Akaashi speaks up softly as the flash on Tsukishima’s phone goes out. The battery ran dry, but he couldn’t bring himself to care too much about it. “Don’t you?”

In the dark, it was hard to tell, but Tsukishima could make out a small nod from Bokuto. Akaashi did a much better job of keeping him calm and grounded than he or Kuroo ever could. He didn’t even need to use a kiss.

Tsukishima hugs his knees closer to his chest, and he grits his teeth before speaking up. 

“Yeah, I do.”

* * *

An hour of empty silence passes, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable or awkward hour. No one shifted and squirmed from where they sat, far too lost in thought to be doing anything other than sitting. Tsukishima nearly broke the silence to point out that he had never seen Bokuto so quiet when he was around Kuroo.

“Full moon tonight.” Sure enough, Bokuto beats him to being first to speak up. All three heads tip back to look at the sky, and Tsukishima stares at the moon and stars. 

Tsukishima wonders just how long Kuroo laid beneath the moon and these very same stars on the night that he died. He wonders how long his lifeless body lay in a pool of quickly cooling blood on asphalt with nothing but the familiarity of the night sky to keep him company before someone found him. 

He wonders how Kuroo felt about seeing nothing but dark, dark blue and stars before everything faded away.

The EMTs said that he died on impact, but there was one thing that Tsukishima didn’t have to wonder about. He knew for a fact that on the off chance he didn’t die on impact, Kuroo would have fought hard to live, and he would have fought for each breath even if his fractured ribs ached and his mouth filled with thick, coppery blood. 

“Hey, Tsukki.” Bokuto speaks up again, and Tsukishima snaps back to reality to glance over at him. “Your name means moon, right?”

“The first half of my surname, yes.” 

“We’re still technically in Tokyo and all, but on clear nights, you can see the moon really well from here—like tonight. So that’s pretty cool your name’s got that in it!” Cool, and suddenly all too profound. “Y’got ‘firefly’ in it too, right?” 

“Yeah, Kei.”  
“You can’t see too many of them tonight, but there’s usually a billion of ‘em flying around here.”  
“I saw a few earlier.”

Tsukishima swallows thickly, and Bokuto slings an arm around his shoulder to pull him close to his side. The contact wasn’t wanted—but at the same time, it wasn’t entirely unwanted either. He lets Bokuto pull him close, and Tsukishima wills his vision to stop blurring with tears. 

“I think he’d be really happy with where he got buried.” Bokuto’s words were soothing, but Tsukishima pushes his glasses to the top of his head and presses the heel of his hands to his eyes to force back tears anyways. “It’s like, he gets to see you every night.”

Tsukishima wanted to say that he isn’t the moon, that he’s not the fireflies, and that Bokuto couldn’t have been more wrong. Instead he nods slowly, and Akaashi's arm reaches around to rub up and down his back.

“Or at least, he’s reminded of you.” Akaashi pitches in with more accurate words. “Though I don’t think he needs reminding.”

“Oh! And your name has ‘island’ in it! And Japan’s an isl—“  
“I get it, Bokuto. I get it.”

Despite the sob that he could feel scratching the back of his throat, Tsukishima laughs. Tears spill, but he laughs and shakes his head at Bokuto’s stupidity and thoughtfulness. His shoulders shake, and Akaashi’s hand was there to soothe the tremors away. 

“Thanks.” Tsukishima manages through the laughs, and he drops his glasses back to the bridge of his nose. There wasn’t any sense in trying to cover up the tears when he knew for a fact that Bokuto and Akaashi were crying just as hard—he just couldn’t see it.

There weren’t any ‘You’re welcome’s needed. Bokuto’s arm tightens around his shoulders, and Akaashi pats his back lightly in understanding. 

“We should get going.” Akaashi’s words wavered, but he remained the voice of reason through the tears. 

“Yeah.” Tsukishima replies, and Bokuto answers by dropping his arm from around his shoulders. Bokuto gets up first, holding out both hands for Tsukishima and Akaashi to take to help them onto their feet. 

Akaashi gets up shortly after. Tsukishima takes Bokuto’s hand, and he pulls himself onto his feet, though it felt more as if Bokuto had pulled his head out from underwater after drowning for months. 

Once he was sure that he could stand on his own, Tsukishima lets go of Bokuto’s hand to pick up his phone and the bag containing his brother’s clothing. 

“Say bye.” Akaashi speaks up after clearing his throat, now running his hand up and down Bokuto’s back. 

Bokuto says goodbye first, and from the way he said it, Tsukishima had a feeling that he wouldn’t be making any more daily visits. 

For a moment, Tsukishima says nothing, but Akaashi and Bokuto were patient. They wait for Tsukishima to wipe the tears off of his cheeks on the back of his hand, and they wait for Tsukishima to find the right words to say.

“Bye, Kuroo.” 

His voice catches on the name, but Tsukishima doesn’t correct himself. Instead he continues after sucking in a deep breath. He wanted to say that Kuroo could forget his promises, but ‘promises’ had too many syllables, and there was an easier way to say it.

“I love you.”

* * *

Tsukishima pulls out his laptop as soon as he gets home. He doesn’t change out of his grass and dirt stained clothes, and he doesn’t splash water on his tear-soaked face. First, he messages Kuroo. He messages him to tell him that it was nice seeing him, even though he didn’t talk much—even though he didn’t talk at all. The messages were sent, and Tsukishima doesn’t wait for a response. None would come, and he knew it. Instead of waiting, he sends a few more messages. This time, he knew that he would get to hear the ping he had been waiting to hear for months.

* * *

_[8/26/16, 10:49:24 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Hey._  
 _[8/26/16, 10:49:28 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Are you awake?_  
 _[8/26/16, 10:49:31 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I’m going to practice tomorrow._  
 _[8/26/16, 10:49:35 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Let’s set up a three-on-three._  
 _[8/26/16, 10:49:38 PM] Tsukishima Kei: If that works for you._  
 _[8/26/16, 10:49:59 PM] Yamaguchi Tadashi: ‘Course, Tsukki!_  
 _[8/26/16, 10:50:04 PM] Yamaguchi Tadashi: I’ll see you tomorrow!_  
 _[8/26/16, 10:50:08 PM] Tsukishima Kei: See you tomorrow._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> annnd thats the last chapter..! (well, not counting the epilogue) 
> 
> i can't really believe that i actually finished this thing honestly... but it's been such an experience and everyone has been so so so kind! every comment i get makes me smile like a big doof and they're just so so touching to read...
> 
> i hope you guys enjoyed reading this fic as much as i enjoyed writing it and i really hope that i did this lovely pairing some justice :-) if you read this thing from start to finish, i'm so glad to have had you on for the ride! 
> 
> thank you so much for taking the time to read! it means so much more than i can put into words.. ;__;


	8. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [“i'm not sorry i met you / i'm not sorry it's over / i'm not sorry there's nothing to say”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=55FMOJMhV9s)   
> 

_[9/27/16, 9:20:37 PM] Tsukishima Kei: It’s my eighteenth birthday today._  
_[9/27/16, 9:20:40 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I’m sure you already knew that._  
_[9/27/16, 9:20:46 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Thinking about how I’m going to be_ older than you one day is pretty weird.  
_[9/27/16, 9:20:49 PM] Tsukishima Kei: And sad._  
_[9/27/16, 9:20:53 PM] Tsukishima Kei: But I think it’s going to be okay._

* * *

_[11/17/16, 6:13:23 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Happy twentieth birthday._

* * *

_[12/03/16, 7:52:31 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Bokuto’s making plans to go back to school next year._  
 _[12/03/16, 3:52:35 PM] Tsukishima Kei: And I think he’s back with Akaashi._  
 _[12/03/16, 3:52:40 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I’m happy for him. I’m a little jealous, though._  
 _[12/03/16, 3:52:43 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I bet you are too._  
 _[12/03/16, 3:52:47 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Happy for him, that is._

* * *

_[12/20/16, 12:02:33 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Nekoma made it to nationals this year._  
 _[12/20/16, 12:02:36 AM] Tsukishima Kei: And so did Karasuno._  
 _[12/20/16, 12:02:42 AM] Tsukishima Kei: It was weird seeing them. Only a few of them even knew who you were._  
 _[12/20/16, 12:02:49 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But they still said that stupid speech that you always gave before games._  
 _[12/20/16, 12:02:53 AM] Tsukishima Kei: That was nice of them. I guess._

* * *

_[12/27/16, 9:52:23 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I graduated from high school today._  
 _[12/27/16, 9:52:29 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I wish you were there to be at the ceremony._  
 _[12/27/16, 9:52:34 PM] Tsukishima Kei: You probably got a better view from wherever you are than my parents did, though._

* * *

_[4/18/17, 11:29:47 PM] Tsukishima Kei: It’s been a year since you’ve left._  
 _[4/18/17, 11:29:53 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I haven’t cried for a while, but I did cry today._  
 _[4/18/17, 11:29:57 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I hope that’s okay._

* * *

_[4/21/17, 8:30:50 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I moved into my dorm today._  
 _[4/21/17, 8:30:56 PM] Tsukishima Kei: It’s nice. I’m glad to be away from home._  
 _[4/21/17, 8:31:03 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I’m starting to warm up to Tokyo already._  
 _[4/21/17, 8:31:07 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I’ll make sure to come and visit when I get the chance._

* * *

_[12/23/20, 10:52:47 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I went to Bokuto’s graduation ceremony the other day._  
 _[12/23/20, 10:52:52 AM] Tsukishima Kei: He’s really pulled himself together. I guess I’m a little proud of him._  
 _[12/23/20, 10:52:59 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But I’d be lying if I said that it wasn’t a little depressing that you weren’t walking across the stage with him._

* * *

_[12/27/20, 3:52:19 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I graduated today._  
 _[12/27/20, 3:52:24 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I don’t know what else to say._  
 _[12/27/20, 3:52:27 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Other than that I still miss you._  
 _[12/27/20, 3:52:30 PM] Tsukishima Kei: It only hurts sometimes now._

* * *

_[1/10/21, 9:50:17 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I just remembered that it was on your left cheek._  
 _[1/10/21, 9:50:20 AM] Tsukishima Kei: That stupid dimple._

* * *

_[2/15/21, 7:10:43 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I forgot to tell you that I started working a few weeks ago._  
 _[2/15/21, 7:10:47 AM] Tsukishima Kei: It’s a pretty boring job, so I’ll spare you the details._  
 _[2/15/21, 7:10:51 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But one of my coworkers asked me out to lunch yesterday._  
 _[2/15/21, 7:10:56 AM] Tsukishima Kei: And I didn’t even realize it was a date until he offered to pick up the tab._  
 _[2/15/21, 7:11:04 AM] Tsukishima Kei: It was pretty embarrassing. I went on a date for the first time since you died and I didn’t even know it._  
 _[2/15/21, 7:11:09 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I guess it wasn’t too bad. He’s a nice guy._

* * *

_[4/02/21, 2:04:07 AM] Tsukishima Kei: He doesn’t look like you. I don’t think I’ll ever find someone that looks like you—what with your hair and all._  
 _[4/02/21, 2:04:12 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But he has that same, shit-eating grin that you always have on your face._  
 _[4/02/21, 2:04:15 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Had on your face.*_  
 _[4/02/21, 2:04:21 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I’m not trying to replace you. I don’t think I am._  
 _[4/02/21, 2:04:29 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Because I honestly don’t think that anyone else can give me that ridiculous feeling in my gut that you would give me, and it’s almost been five years._  
 _[4/02/21, 2:04:33 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Either way, I still love you and all._

* * *

_[8/14/22, 12:52:57 AM] Tsukishima Kei: He’s only got one dimple too._  
 _[8/14/22, 12:52:59 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Except his is on his right cheek._  
 _[8/14/22, 12:53:04 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I think I’m in too deep._

* * *

_[1/20/23, 6:04:10 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I think I love him._  
 _[1/20/23, 6:04:14 AM] Tsukishima Kei: It’s not like how I loved—and still love—you._  
 _[1/20/23, 6:04:19 AM] Tsukishima Kei: He kisses me in the mornings like you used to, but he doesn’t call me ‘princess.’_  
 _[1/20/23, 6:04:22 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I hated it then, but now I miss it._

* * *

_[9/02/23, 11:50:07 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Bokuto and Akaashi got married today. Like anyone didn’t see that one coming._  
 _[9/02/23, 11:50:11 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Bokuto asked me to be his best man, and at first I said no._  
 _[9/02/23, 11:50:16 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Those kinds of formalities are stupid._  
 _[9/02/23, 11:50:21 PM] Tsukishima Kei: Also, I knew that it should be you standing up there with him, not me._  
 _[9/02/23, 11:50:25 PM] Tsukishima Kei: But that turned out to be the same reason why I said yes in the end._  
 _[9/02/23, 11:50:29 PM] Tsukishima Kei: He looked so happy, Kuroo._  
 _[9/02/23, 11:50:35 PM] Tsukishima Kei: And I couldn’t even find it in myself to be jealous of him._  
 _[9/02/23, 11:50:39 PM] Tsukishima Kei: I was just happy._

* * *

_[6/13/24, 5:24:16 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I’m sorry I haven’t gotten around to mesaging you._  
 _[6/13/24, 5:24:19 AM] Tsukishima Kei: It’s been a year, I know._  
 _[6/13/24, 5:24:24 AM] Tsukishima Kei: That coworker I told you about a long time ago asked me to marry him, and I said maybe._  
 _[6/13/24, 5:24:32 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But he kept asking, like I know you would have, and after the hundredth time I just caved and said yes._  
 _[6/13/24, 5:24:35 AM] Tsukishima Kei: So I’ve been spending a lot of time getting settled._  
 _[6/13/24, 5:24:38 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I still miss you, and I still love you._  
 _[6/13/24, 5:24:43 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Even if you suck and left without me._  
 _[6/13/24, 5:24:48 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But now I think it’s my turn to leave._

* * *

_[4/18/39, 11:54:52 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I went to visit your grave today for the first time in a few months._  
 _[4/18/39, 11:54:55 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Bokuto was there, and Akaashi was too._  
 _[4/18/39, 11:54:59 AM] Tsukishima Kei: So was the moon, and so were the fireflies._

* * *

_[9/05/52, 9:16:12 AM] Tsukishima Kei: This message has been removed._  
 _[9/05/52, 9:16:19 AM] Tsukishima Kei: This message has been removed._  
 _[9/05/52, 9:16:23 AM] Tsukishima Kei: This message has been removed._

_[9/05/52, 9:32:17 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I’ll see you soon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how could i close a major character death fic without [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NDHY1D0tKRA)..! i’ve been saving it for the epilogue :-)
> 
> alright now it's really over... and ahh this is the only chapter that's gotten me close to tears while writing.. i think it's just because i'll miss writing this
> 
> thanks again for reading!
> 
> if you wanna keep up with my writing and future haikyuu, kurobas and yowapeda fics, be sure to follow my [writing blog!](http://bbarfs.tumblr.com/)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Ballad of a Dove](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8676313) by [月島 蛍 (Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson/pseuds/%E6%9C%88%E5%B3%B6%20%E8%9B%8D)




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